


Oldies but Goodies (Book 1)

by Tibbsian



Series: Oldies but Goodies [1]
Category: NCIS
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-06
Updated: 2013-03-06
Packaged: 2017-12-04 10:44:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 73,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/709878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tibbsian/pseuds/Tibbsian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>LAST EDITED: APRIL 5, 2017, for typos and rephrasing of a few awkward sentences.</p><p>Gibbs fell for Tony back when they met on a case involving NCIS and the Baltimore PD but Gibbs never acted on his attraction. It is now nine years later and when Tony inherits a fortune from dear ol’ Uncle Clive, Vance lets Gibbs in on a few things about Tony that’s still classified. SecNav has plans for Tony so Vance can’t lose Tony and Gibbs is the key.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story came when I was researching for a suitable oldie song for Tony to sing to Gibbs in my first NCIS fanfic, DiNozzo! I ended up fascinated with the music of the bygone era, music which Mark Harmon, at 62 this year, would have grown up with. I conveniently ignored the fact that my Gibbs is a decade younger than Harmon :p
> 
> This story is on the lighter side and the focus is totally on the romance between Tony and Gibbs. No case fics or suspense. View it as pure junk/comfort food for a Tibbs fix.
> 
> While the sex will be explicit, it won’t happen until the final leg of the story. Read them if you love romance, not if you’re looking for erotica or a murder mystery/suspense.
> 
> This is my try-out for a series which features my favorite tropes:  
> • Tony inherits a shitload of money (this is based on the true-life experience of a friend who was near bankruptcy when she received the life-changing phone call)  
> • First Time Romance  
> • Both Gibbs and Tony hiding a secret love for each other
> 
> I plan for this series to feature songs from the 50s-80s era.
> 
> As always, I unashamedly take liberties with the canonical details to fit my story.

_**  
** _

 

 

 

 

 

**Prologue**

 

_**Baltimore, MD; 2001** _

 

“Gibbs.” Dan Holloway, lead detective of the Baltimore Police Department, called out. “How about staying back to have dinner? You can drive back tomorrow morning.”

Gibbs paused a moment before he replied. “Yeah, why not.” His case, the reason why he’d come up to Baltimore, was wrapped up and there wasn’t any reason to stay.

Then again, it was Friday of the Thanksgiving weekend and it wasn’t as if he had anything to rush back to either.

“Give me an hour and I’ll pick you up,” Dan said.

By the time Dan arrived, Gibbs was all showered, dressed and hungry. Dan took him to a steakhouse the detective frequented, and talked shop as they ate.

“Sorry about not being there much of the time.” Dan apologized. “Chief’s breathing down my neck about the Mather murder.” Senator James Mather was a prominent politician and his murder a week ago had taken precedence over that of a Marine Lieutenant.

“No problem,” Gibbs said. “Was pretty straightforward once we made the connection between our victim and the perp. DiNozzo was responsible for that so it’s you I have to thank for assigning him to me. Good man. Lots of potential.”

“That’s good to hear. So how’s life at NCIS these days?”

“Going pretty well. I’ll be switching over to MCRT next week. Major Case Response Team.” Gibbs clarified. “Team lead.”

“Good for you! Congratulations.”

“I only have half the team. Haven’t brought on any special agents yet.”

“Hey, you want anything else? Dessert?” Dan asked, seeing that they’d finished everything on their plates.

“Nah. I’m good.” 

“Then let’s go get a beer. There’s this bar that serves great coffee, too…and there’s something I want to talk to you about.”

“Let’s go.”

 

* * * * *

 

The bar was crowded but they managed to find a table tucked into the back corner. Dan asked for a beer for himself, a coffee and a bourbon for Gibbs. The waitress had just brought their drinks over when Gibbs noticed the man who’d just entered the bar.

“Hey.” He nodded towards the entrance. “DiNozzo just came in. He joining us?” he asked.

“No.” Dan replied. “And he’s what I want to talk to you about so don’t call him over. Hopefully, he won’t notice us.”

“Why come here, then? He’s bound to see us at some point.” Gibbs said as he watched DiNozzo join a group of men at the opposite side of the crowded bar. DiNozzo had changed out of his work clothes and looked freshly-shaved, making Gibbs him think things he had no business thinking. “Sorry, what did you say?” Gibbs turned back to Dan.

“I asked what’s your impression of DiNozzo.”

“Good potential, like I said. Sharp. Intuitive. He’ll go far under the right mentor.” Gibbs paused to look at Tony again. “— if he curbs that tendency of his to be flippant and cuts down on the standup comic act, “ he added.

“Yeah, well, there’s a reason for that.

“What?” Gibbs asked.

Dan jerked his chin in Tony’s direction. “Wait and watch.”

Gibbs did, drinking his coffee then adding a generous amount of bourbon to it. DiNozzo was relaxed and laughing with his friends. A few minutes later, one of the men, a blonde in black jeans and a white muscle shirt, put an arm around DiNozzo’s waist and whispered something in his ear. Gibbs’ brow went up as Tony turned to receive a full-on kiss on the mouth from the blonde then leave the bar with him.

Gibbs turned to Dan, head cocked, the question hung between then unspoken.

Dan sighed. “This is a gay-friendly bar.”

Gibbs looked around him and chuckled. “You don’t say. And DiNozzo? That looked _very_ gay-friendly to me.”

“This is how it is, Gibbs.” Dan sat forward. “DiNozzo’s a bright guy. Would make a very good detective, like you say. Tough luck for DiNozzo the chief’s a homophobe. DiNozzo’s been very well-hidden in his closet until recently when I started to hear a rumor or two. One of these days he might just get caught and it won’t be pretty.” Dan took a long swallow of his beer.

“The rest of the department think like the chief?” Gibbs asked.

“Pretty much so but those that don’t still aren’t going to stick up for him if it got out he’s a fag.”

“Why are you telling me?”

Dan emptied his glass and called for another. “Wanted a second opinion of DiNozzo. Someone from outside. You worked with him on this case and I thought you might have an opinion. DiNozzo’s a good guy. He’s gone out of his way to help my youngest kid. Boy was heading for trouble and I was stuck in a case that took me out of town several times. DiNozzo kinda took Casey under his wing, played ball with him every weekend and hung out together. Somehow DiNozzo got my kid’s head screwed on back straight. Not many guys like DiNozzo around.”

“Then talk to him. You’re the head of his division. Advise him to get a transfer.”

“That’s what I am going to do but I was thinking…DC?”

Gibbs gave a short laugh. “LEOs don’t like me much there so the last thing I wanna do is recommend a gay cop to them. They won’t take it well, believe me.”

“Does his being gay bother you?”

Gibbs chuckled. “Hell, no. To each his own.” Gibbs wasn’t about to come out to Dan either. Never saw the need before, didn’t see it now.

Dan nodded. “I wanted to see your reaction, that’s why I brought you here without telling you why. I found out DiNozzo hangs out here every Friday. So you think he’s good at his job? Is he someone you would hire?”

“Yeah, I think he is and yeah, I don’t believe you should waste good. I’ll ask around. Maybe the FBI will have something but what makes you think DiNozzo’s willing to relocate?”

“You said you haven’t hired any agents yet. How about making him your team’s first special agent?”

That took Gibbs by surprise, the glass of bourbon paused in mid-air before it touched his lips. He put the glass down without drinking. “Y’know. I could use a partner like him.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * * * *

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Chapter 1**

 

  
  
Nine years and three marriages later.

 

 “Gibbs.” Director Vance sat back in his chair as the head of MCRT stepped into his office.

“What’s up, Leon?”

 “Have a seat.”

“It’s ok.” Gibbs remained standing, fingers flexing. That habit told Vance Gibbs was antsy and preoccupied with something. The team was only going over cold cases after wrapping up the serial killer one so Vance knew something other than work was bugging Gibbs.

“I know you and your team’s been up to your necks in cases the past months but I’m telling you - you need to back down a bit.”

Gibbs looked nonplussed. “Back down? I haven’t pissed off anyone in a whole week.”

“And that’s impressive.” Vance smiled. “I don’t mean ‘back down’ in that sense. I mean you need to back down from your own team. Take a breather. You caught the killer that’s been terrorizing our Navy personnel. SecNav’s smiling. Your marathon run is over. At least for now. Your team needs to take a break. This last case almost got DiNozzo killed and the rest of them are run ragged.”

 The last thing Gibbs wanted was to be reminded of that near-miss. Vance was right. DiNozzo had almost lost his life because Gibbs had been running them to the ground. Just because he could get by with catnaps every day – and night – didn’t mean his team could.

 “I know, Leon. Won’t happen again.” Gibbs’ frown  told Vance his top special agent took that lapse badly. It wasn’t often that Gibbs was wrong but Vance knew that lately, Gibbs had been looking tired. He sensed it had nothing to do with work but with a certain member of Gibbs’ team.

Vance didn’t want to go there but he didn’t have a choice now. He sat forward. “Sit down, Jethro.” He indicated to the chair with a nod. He almost never called Gibbs by his first name and that he did so now had Gibbs doing as he was told.

“You and your team have so much vacation time stacked up I’m going to have to insist you cut some of it down.”

“Okay,” Gibbs replied.

Unconvinced, Vance added, “Those lines around your eyes are turning into grooves.”

Gibbs scowled at Vance’s chuckle. “Don’t matter. Not some poster boy for a recruitment drive. Not in the market to snag a hot babe either, as DiNozzo would say.”

“’ _Hot’_ babes? If you look any more haggard, you’d be lucky to interest one of the _cold_ babes in autopsy.” Vance brushed a hand across his mouth. “That was a nasty case,” he muttered. “Thank God it’s over.”

Five teenage girls, the daughters of Navy personnel, had been the victims of a serial killer, the last body only discovered last week. Gibbs’ team had been quick enough to zero in on the killer before he added another notch to his post. Gibbs and his agents had worked practically non-stop for six months, catching a couple of hours sleep every few days, sometimes on the floor of the bullpen. It had been the same for Abby. Because the victims started off as kidnappings, the FBI had been called in and Fornell had called Gibbs only when the connection to the Navy had been established.

“We’re not on call this weekend so that should help.”

“Not good enough.” Vance picked up his phone and started to dial. “Thanksgiving’s next week. I want your team taking time off. I’m telling security not to let any of you in here until Wednesday morning.”

“Why the hell would we do that?” Gibbs glared at his director. “That’s six days! We already got Thursday off. We’ll take Friday off, too. Back on Monday. How about that?”

“Weren’t you listening earlier?” Vance put the phone back down. “The point is to start clearing your accrued leave. Not just you and your team but Abby and Ducky as well.”

“I thought the point was just to arrest the signs of aging on my face,” Gibbs said. “Sleeping in over the weekend’s good enough. Don’t need any days off.”

“If you want to be reminded of those bags under your eyes, I can belabor the point but Gibbs, I don’t think your team will thank you for turning down a week’s leave. _Paid_ leave.”

Gibbs threw up his hands. “Okay.” He stood up. “We’ll take the time off but we’ll be back on Tuesday. Not Wednesday.”

Vance said. “Fine. Now get outta here. I’ve got more important things to do than arrange my people’s vacation time.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * * * *

 

 “Go home, people.” Gibbs announced tiredly as he opened his desk drawer to retrieve his weapon.

“We’re meeting for coffee outside,” Ziva said. “Would you like to join us?”

“Yeah, boss.” Tony strolled up to Gibbs’ desk. “This is the first day in months we can get off early so come unwind with us before you hit your basement.”

Gibbs glared at his senior field agent. “Why just coffee at the kiosk outside? Woulda thought you’d all go out for dinner or something.”

“That was what I suggested,” Tony said. “But Ms. David and McSneaky have plans so it’s just coffee.”

“And _you_ don’t have plans?” Gibbs slammed his drawer shut and stood.

“Nope. I have tomorrow, though,” Tony replied. “Frat brother dropping by en route to a business meeting. So you coming? Coffee then basement?”

“Of course, he’s coming.” Abby announced, bouncing up to them and linking her arm with Gibbs. “Ziva has something to tell us and Gibbs has to be there.”

“She’s pregnant.” Tony whispered to Abby. “And Gibbs is the father.” The swiftly-administered head slap told him Gibbs had heard him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * * * *

 

 “Hey, everyone.” Ziva got up from her seat in the park outside the Hq building. They’d all gotten their coffees and were huddled together, some sitting some standing. Ducky and Palmer had also joined them, both equally glad for an early exit from work. “I have something to announce,” Ziva said.

Conversations ceased and everyone turned to her expectantly.

“Ray proposed last night and I accepted,” Ziva said.

“Congratulations, my dear.” Ducky gave Ziva a hug as Abby squealed and launched herself at Ziva. An alert Palmer pulled Ducky out of the way of the excited Goth.

The rest of the team extended their congratulations and Gibbs even looked genuinely happy for Ziva.

“So, the spook finally came through.”

 “Yes, he did,” Ziva said.

They all knew Ziva and Ray had been putting in some serious dating even though the team’s unearthly schedules meant the couple couldn’t spend as much time as they would have liked.

Tony knew, courtesy of Miss Sciuto, that most times when Ray did get to spend time with Ziva, it would be late in the night. The couple would kiss and part at dawn, not knowing when they’d get another date, Ray’s schedule being even worse than Ziva’s since he did a lot of traveling. “Does this mean we’re going to be seeing more of CI-Ray?” he asked.

“Yes, I certainly hope so,” Ziva replied. “He’s been promoted and his request to be stationed in DC permanently has been granted. It was part of the proposal package.”

“’Proposal Package’?” Tony’s brow quirked up.

“Leave it, DiNozzo,” Gibbs murmured warningly. It didn’t take much for his two field agents to start sniping at each other and frankly, he wasn’t in the mood for their antics.

There was a time he thought Tony was bisexual and that there was some spark between the two of them that would develop into something more. Over the years, he realized it was simply inherent in Tony’s nature to flirt with every female, from colleagues to cashiers, not because he swung both ways. The relief he’d felt was something he’d not allowed himself to examine and he didn’t want to start now. Except in the past year or so, that had gotten more difficult. DiNozzo, first of all, had changed over the last two years. Subtly, at first, then the last six months Gibbs had noticed the lack of juvenile behavior. The wisecracks still came but the previous childish practical jokes had noticeably lessened. Even the flirting had decreased though DiNozzo made no effort to hide his admiration for a nice butt or pair of legs.

DiNozzo clearly wanted everyone to think he was straight. Gibbs could understand that because though NCIS wasn’t military, federal agencies weren’t a place where you’d flaunt your homosexuality either.

There had been a few occasions when Gibbs had been tempted to ask DiNozzo but those were when he was alone in the basement with only his thoughts for company and those thoughts were mostly about DiNozzo. As always, when the morning came and Gibbs entered the bullpen, he’d decide it was a bad idea.

DiNozzo was his subordinate. He’d promised Dan he’d keep an eye on Tony’s six. He didn’t crap in his own backyard, especially not after Jenny, so getting curious about DiNozzo’s private life would be a big mistake. DiNozzo was a great agent and that was all that mattered to Gibbs.

_Liar._

“You realize Stan’s going to be absolutely heartbroken, don’t you?” Tony said, breaking into Gibbs’ train of thought.

“Stan?” Ziva scrunched her face at Tony. “Stan _Burley_? How on earth did you come up with that idea? There’s never been anything romantic between Stan and me.”

“Uh-uh.” Tony gave a shake. “Trust me. The man’s smitten. Silently, no doubt, but definitely smitten. Poor guy. Can’t bear to be there when he gets the news.”

“We’re just friends. He’s never asked me out.” Ziva shook her head, perplexed.

“Would you have gone out with him?” Tony asked.

“I might.”

“Too late now,  huh?” Tony said.

“Yes,” Ziva replied. “And you, I assume, are going to break the news to him.”

“I might.” Tony gave another grin. He’d always thought Stan Burley was a better fit for Ziva than CI-Ray, at least he did once he realized the other agent wasn’t competition. For Gibbs. Not Ziva. Call it gut-feel but he couldn’t see Ray staying faithful to Ziva. Not in the long-term, if he even was now. There was something shifty about the guy.

 “Now that Ziva’s news is out of the way,” Ducky began. “– not that it was an obstruction, of course, I have an announcement of my own.”

“You got a proposal, too, Ducky?” Tony asked.

“As a matter of fact, yes,” Ducky replied.

“You’re kidding.” Tony’s eyes rounded. All heads turned to Ducky.

“You didn’t tell me you were seeing anyone,” Gibbs said.

“Well, you didn’t tell me quite a few things about yourself, either, Jethro.”

“So who is she?” Abby asked. “And she proposed to you?”

“I think I know who it is,” Palmer piped up then backed down at Ducky’s glare.

“Let me finish, will you all?” Ducky turned back and smiled at the rest. “Louise and I have been seeing each other for the last seven months. She’s a widow and a surgeon at Bethesda. And yes, she proposed and I accepted.”

“Wow,” McGee said. “Way to go, Dr. Mallard.”

“So when’s the Big Day for you two?” Tony asked Ziva and Ducky.

“Ray and I are planning for September next year.” Ziva replied.

“Mine’s going to be a quiet and private affair,” Ducky said. “Probably April. Louise has asked if I would mind moving into her home and I agreed without a moment’s hesitation. After mother passed last year, I felt a change of residence would be refreshing. Mother’s taste in décor could be a little overpowering at times.”

“Louis the 15th meets the Roaring Twenties?” Tony asked, chuckling. “I know your pain, Ducky.”

“Yes. Quite.” Ducky grimaced. “Louise, however, has a preference for a lighter, contemporary tone where comfort triumphs over showcasing. I fully concur.”

“How about you, Gibbs?” Tony turned to his team leader. “Anyone in the running for Wife Number Five?” Gibbs glared at him. “Guess not.” Tony muttered.

“Going for a refill.” Gibbs walked off. He was happy for his people. Happy for Ziva finding someone to love and live with. Didn’t  think it would be Ray, though. He’d met them for a meal at Ziva’s and while he couldn’t say he disliked the guy, he thought Ziva could do better. Tony had been there, too, and, of course, couldn’t help taking digs at the spook, to Ziva’s annoyance.

That was early last year, when Tony started showing up in the basement on Fridays, with Gibbs’ favorite Chinese and a six-pack. It became an unspoken ritual. Gibbs didn’t ask why. Didn’t want to, not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth, for that was what it was to him – a gift. Even when they caught a case late in the day, they’d go back to his basement and eat a late-night supper, discussing the investigation. Twice, he’d offered Tony the guestroom, sensing the younger man was preoccupied about something and drunk more than he usually did. They’d have breakfast the next morning before Tony took off to do whatever it was Tony did on the weekends.

Gibbs never asked what Tony did on weekends. Wasn’t his business. Besides, he had his own hands full, dealing with his own feelings for Tony. He’d disciplined himself not to let Tony stay over too much. That would be courting trouble.

His Marine discipline had enabled him to not dwell on his attraction to DiNozzo when he’d first met him in Baltimore. So why was it getting harder to stick to that resolve? Why did he feel as if he was losing that battle these days?

Gibbs had never pinned a label on himself. He’d never really questioned whether he was gay or bi simply because the need had never arisen. What he did in private was no one’s business but his as long as his conscience was clear. He had strong moral and ethical convictions so he’d never felt the need to declare his sexual preferences, if he even had any.

As such, he saw no valid reason to stick his nose in DiNozzo’s private life. _No, you want to stick something else in his privates._

Besides, he’d hear about Tony’s date on Monday mornings when he’d would go through his Monday morning ritual – giving Ziva and McGee an account of his hot weekend. Until a well-timed head slap put a halt to it.

“Hi, Gibbs.” Brian, the barista manning the kiosk outside HQ greeted Gibbs cheerfully. “Must be good news.” He nodded at Gibbs' team who were laughing and chatting happily away. “All the congratulations. You getting married or something?”

Gibbs shook his head. “Nope. Not me.”

“Tony?”

“Nah. Dr. Mallard and one of my other agents. Give me another one for Tony.”

“Sure. White with hazelnut syrup.”

“Good memory,” Gibbs remarked. “Didn’t think you knew Tony’s preference.” The last word instantly conjuring up an image of a hot, aroused Tony tangled up with his preference. What would that be? A blonde like the guy Gibbs saw him leave the bar with nine years ago?

“Oh, he asked if I could get hazelnut syrup instead of hazelnut-flavored creamer last week.” Brian said, remarking on Gibbs’ last comment.

“And you could?”

“Oh yeah, of course. Tony hates creamer in his coffee. He prefers milk. Tony’s makes sure his preferences are clearly known.”

Gibbs grunted in response, paid and returned to the group, handing Tony his coffee.”

“Thanks, boss.” Tony took the cup from Gibbs, his fingers brushing against his boss’ briefly.

Nine years. Has it really been that long, Gibbs asked silently.

 

 

 

 

 

* * * * *

 

Tony had long told himself to be satisfied with crumbs. A head slap. A brush of the fingers. Sometimes, when it was a lucky day, Gibbs would lean over him to peer at his monitor screen, trying to read the information Tony had called up. At those times, Tony got to breathe in that intoxicating scent and if it was an agonizing struggle not to give in to the temptation to turn and bury his nose in Gibbs’ neck, well, so far he’d won that battle.

“What about you, McSneaky?” Tony asked brightly. “I’ve caught you sneaking out of the bullpen and casting looks at us to see if we were watching or following.”

“I do not sneak out,” McGee protested. “Certainly not to some secret date, Tony.”

“He’s right, Tony,” Palmer said. “Most evenings after work, he’s down at Abby’s lab.”

Tony squinted at McGee. “I know there’s a secret somewhere in there.” He held up a finger, “but – I’ll take Palmer’s word for it that you’re not holding out on us. For now.”

“You do that, DiNozzo,” Gibbs cut in. “Listen, guys. Vance is forcing us to take some time off. There’s the Thanksgiving weekend coming up next week so we’re taking Friday and Monday off as well. Back to work Tuesday.”

“Really?” McGee sounded skeptical. They hadn’t had a regular weekend off in months, whether or not they had been on rotation.

“A whole _long_ weekend? From Thursday?” Abby asked, equally incredulous. “I know it’s Thanksgiving but we’ve had to work the last two so I wasn’t gonna hope to get off this year. I mean we did have our Thanksgiving turkey but we had to eat it in the bullpen.”

“I don’t believe it either,” Ziva said. “Neither will Ray.” She muttered under her breath.

“Five whole days?” Tony asked. His gut clenched as he scrambled mentally to figure what to do to pass those five days without going crazy. Five days of no Gibbs. No, wait. He could still go over on Friday night for dinner, as usual, then see if he could wrangle a sleepover. He’d never ask, always waiting for Gibbs to offer. So far, Gibbs had offered it only twice. _Twice_ in nine years. Not exactly encouraging.

“Wait a minute.” Gibbs frowned at the group of unbelieving faces. “Aren’t you happy you’re getting some time off at last?”

“Oh yeah, of course,” Abby replied without hesitation.

“Yes, but –” Ziva said, at the same time.

“That’s great, boss…” Tony began, too.

The replies came automatically and Gibbs didn’t believe them. “Look, I went to a bit of effort to get another team to cover for us on Thursday and Friday and another to cover the long weekend, right up to Tuesday so show some enthusiasm and use the time to do whatever you need to do which you couldn’t do the last few months. Am I making myself clear?”

“Yes sir.” Went the chorus. Gibbs shook his head. They could be exasperating but he wouldn’t trade them for the world. His family. His friends. He loved them more than anything.

“I’m sure we’re all grateful for the break, Jethro,” Ducky chimed in. “Your team just needs a bit of time to let the news sink in.”

“Breena’s asking me to go down with her to visit her family,” Palmer said glumly. “She’s taken time off, too. I’m not exactly looking forward to it. Now, with the extra-long weekend, she’s going to suggest we go down a day earlier!”

“I hate listening to your horror stories, Palmer,” Tony said, in response. “I’m taking off. See you guys in the morning.”

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

 

**Chapter 2**

 

  
Gibbs emptied the glass of its assortment of nails and bolts and poured himself a bourbon. As usual, his basement was quiet, the only sounds being either his sanding or chipping. His nightly routine. One that had brought him a measure of comfort; a sanctuary when it got a little difficult to face a few things.

Gibbs gave a huff and swallowed down the smooth but fiery liquid. Who’d have thought the Great White, as Tony once called him (head slap following a moment later) had fears buried so deep they only burrowed out in the solitude of his basement where it was safe to reveal themselves. Like the elusive Loch Ness monster. And monsters, they were.

Unfortunately, sightings were becoming more frequent lately. He was finding himself fearing the prospect of a Tony-less life. DiNozzo would eventually seek greener pastures because he’d conclude that he was never going to make team leader since, after nine years, Gibbs had not put his name up for a  promotion despite the good performance reviews.

Tony didn’t know – and never would – that the reason was an extremely selfish one on Gibbs’ part. Their ‘fearless leader’ was more ‘obsessed leader’. Obsessed with a man a dozen years his junior, a man who was his subordinate; a man who was a closet-gay and who’d never guess the things that had crossed his leader’s mind every day for nine long, excruciating years.

Then again, there was the fact that DiNozzo had turned down an offer to lead his own team in Rota, Spain. Oh yeah. There was that, indeed.

Gibbs drained his glass and was about to refill it then changed his mind. The last thing he needed was more brooding over something he couldn’t have. After three failed marriages, he had no illusions about himself. He sucked at relationships and his exes had made that unmistakably clear.

Nevertheless, he knew he loved Tony. More than any of his ex-wives.

As much as Shannon. There. He was now able to admit that. For years, he’d clung to the sacred memory and clung to the belief that he’d never love again as he’d loved his first wife. She had been the springtime in a life that had been a long grey, bleak winter. Her smiles brought out sunshine and sunflowers.

And then she was gone and winter was back.

Then he met Tony.

The ache in his chest sharpened until Gibbs thought he was having an angina attack but it subsided, leaving him to ruminate alone in his semi-dark dungeon.

 

* * * * *

 

“’Morning, boss.” Tony’s cheery greeting rang out the next morning.

“You’re one minute late,” Gibbs said but the half-smile robbed the accusation of its sting.

Tony did a double-take at the teasing tone. “But only because I stopped to get you a coffee.” He put the large cup down as Gibbs drank the last of his first cup.

Gibbs nodded. “Thanks.”

“Good morning, Gibbs. Tony.” McGee strode in, followed by a smiling Ziva. “Nice shirt, Tony. Compliments your natural tan and green eyes.”

Tony turned around slowly to face the other agent. “What’s up with you?” he asked, suspiciously.

Ziva sidled up to him. “He thinks your green eyes are your best feature and he’s given you a compliment,” she said. “Learn to say ‘thank you’, Tony.”

Gibbs’ picked up the ringing phone, effectively curtailing whatever had been on the tip of his tongue. “Marine down. Let’s go.” He tossed the keys to Tony. “You know what.”

“Giddy-up, Tony.” McGee grinned. “Meet you out front.

The dead Marine case was a suicide. He’d been undergoing treatment for PTSD following his discharge and return from Afghanistan last year. The empty prescription bottle and an equally-empty JD wrapped it up quickly and sadly.

They headed back to Hq and Gibbs was about to go to the head when Tony handed in his report and asked if he could have a couple of hours off to attend to a personal matter.

Gibbs looked up at Tony. “Anything wrong?”

“No. Just a meeting with my Uncle Clive’s lawyers,” Tony replied. They need me to sign some documents,” he said in a quiet tone. McGee looked up from his desk but Gibbs could tell from Tony’s body language that whatever it was about, Tony didn’t want it known.

“Okay,” he said, responding to Tony’s explanation. “But call me if you can’t make it back before five. Just in case we catch a case.”

Tony looked at the time on his cell phone. Two p.m. “Be back way before five, boss. Thanks.”

His colleagues watched Tony jog to the elevator.

Ziva opened her mouth.

“Not your business, Ziva,” Gibbs said, not looking up from his keyboard. Ziva closed her mouth but not before McGee caught her sticking out her tongue at their boss. He took out his cell phone and tapped out a message.

Ziva opened it. “ _Very mature, Mrs. Cruz-to-be_.” Ziva stuck her tongue at McGee.

“If you’re both done playing five year-olds, start working on the Claymore cold case.”

“On it, boss,” Both agents responded.

Gibbs stood up and headed for autopsy. He wondered how much more DiNozzo was hiding aside from his being gay. He was surprised the younger man had lasted this long and hadn’t confided in any of the team members, especially when they’d become each other’s closest friends. For Ziva, they had become her surrogate family. Tony’s, too. Heck, they were all each other had.

None of them had any siblings except for Abby. Ziva had a brother and that was another thing that wasn’t for casual conversation. McGee had a sister and a grandmother but rarely saw each other nor did McGee mention his parents much, if at all.

As for DiNozzo, Gibbs knew under that happy-go-lucky exterior was a lonely man. In many ways, DiNozzo was more like his boss than DiNozzo would ever know.

 

* * * * *

 

Tony let his thoughts drift to Ducky’s and Ziva’s announcements yesterday evening as he drove to the lawyer’s office. He was genuinely happy for them, happy that at his age, Ducky was getting married for the first time. Louise must be the real deal since Ducky had never lacked female companionship and found time and opportunity to date even when his ailing mother was alive. None of them were serious, though. More about companionship than romance. This time it appeared to be both.

He was especially happy for Ziva though he’d teased her mercilessly over the years. She was made of sterner stuff, that one, and took it all in stride. He knew Abby thought there was some attraction there but the truth was that he liked his women softer and more giving.  _And my men hard and alpha._

The visit to McCallum, Weatherly and Murray, LLP, took just under an hour and when he left the lawyer’s offices, Tony DiNozzo was two hundred and seventy million British pounds richer. After the DC inheritance tax, it was still a mindboggling sum.

He’d only met Uncle Clive – Sir Clive, to be exact -  three times. Once when his mother took him to her brother’s country estate in Oxfordshire for the weekend while visiting London, another time when he spent an entire summer there following his graduation; and finally a year before he joined the Baltimore PD, when he and his frat brothers had taken a two-week holiday to Hong Kong and Japan.

He’d run into Uncle Clive when they were having mid-morning dim sum at San Hing, a restaurant as famous for its dim sum delicacies as it was for the local and international celebrities that made up its regular clientele.

Tony had ended up spending two days with his uncle who introduced to him to his Hong Kong friends and business associates and arranged for special tours of the island colony for him and his frat brothers.

Uncle Clive had always been a warm, generous man with a dry wit and a huge sense of humor and Tony knew the old man had a soft spot for his American nephew. He just didn’t know Uncle Clive liked him _that_ much. The meeting this afternoon wasn’t about the will. That had been done eighteen months ago at the hearing and Tony had applied for a couple of days off.

Today, the US division of the UK law firm merely needed him to sign the acknowledgment of the receipt of the funds into the bank accounts he’d set up specifically for this. It took all of one minute to scratch the pen across the documents once he confirmed that the funds were in his accounts.

Tony had kept his newly-acquired wealth a secret from everyone. Even Gibbs. As he walked up to the coffee kiosk outside the NCIS Hq, however, Tony realized he’d have to disclose his financial status to his boss and would also need to file it with the agency.

“Hey, Tony.” Brian smiled at him. “The usual?”

 “Hi, my favorite barista. Yes, and an extra-large for Gibbs.”

“How’s life treating you?

 “Couldn’t be better.” _It could but…_

“Heard two of your colleagues are getting hitched.” Brian said, as he prepared the brews.

“Yup. How did you hear?”

“Heard you guys congratulating each other yesterday and your boss confirmed it. How about you? Don’t see a ring. Getting hitched any time soon?” Brian handed Tony the coffees and took the cash.

“No, not married. Never married. And not planning to.

“Too many to choose from, huh?”

“There you go. Too many girls. Not enough hours in the day or night.”

As Tony headed back into the office with the two coffees, he couldn’t help thinking how nice it would be to have someone love him enough to propose to him – as Louise did Ducky. Man, that was a surprise. He’d thought the ME would be more the old-fashioned type and had expected him to be doing the proposing. Then again, he’d also thought Ducky liked all that baroque clutter in his house when it was just him deferring to his mother.

He gave his head a small, sad shake. If he ever wanted to propose to anyone, only one person came to mind. Which was why it was a waste of time thinking about what-ifs.

Tony placed the coffee on Gibbs’ table. “I’m back, boss.”

Gibbs looked up at Tony, frowning slightly. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Tony replied, returning to his desk. “Uh, boss.” He said, a few minutes later. Gibbs looked up. “That long weekend confirmed?”

“Yeah,” Gibbs growled, irate at the thought that Tony was already planning a dirty weekend. And he was going out with a frat brother tonight, too. Which meant he wouldn’t be coming round with beer and Chinese. Gibbs mood spiraled down even lower.

 

 

* * * * *

 

Tony sent a text message to Abby to wait for him after work as he wanted to run something by her. The rest of the day went by and with no new cases phoned in, Gibbs dismissed them early.

Tony went to the men’s room first then made his way down to Abby’s lab to find McGee already there, both of them in quiet conversation.”

“Hey, Tony.” Abby looked up quickly, smiling. “What’s up?”

McGee straightened up and moved away a few steps from Abby.

Tony’s gaze flickered momentarily as something flashed by his mind.

“Something wrong?” Abby asked.

“Uh, no,” Tony answered. “Just thought you sounded different. Looked different.”

“No-o. Same ol’ me,” Abby said. “Anyway, what can I do for you?”

“You guys wanna do something together as a team next weekend since we’ve got five whole days off?” Tony saw the hesitation on both Abby and McGee and frowned. “What? I thought it would be nice to do something relaxing for a change.”

“But…don’t you wanna go somewhere on your own with just your date?” Abby asked. “Especially since we have so many days off?”

“No, I wasn’t planning to go anywhere with anyone. So? You guys in or out?”

Abby looked at McGee, who saw the smile in her eyes and replied, “Yeah, we’re in. What are you thinking of doing?”

“I thought we could go somewhere,” Tony replied.

“Fantastic. Where?” Abby asked, rushing over to McGee and giving him a hug from behind. McGee, momentarily startled, covered Abby’s hands with his. “Is Ziva coming? She’ll want to bring Ray.”

“Is there something going on here that I’m only just becoming aware of?” Tony waved a finger between Abby and McGee, the two of them still plastered together. “And Gibbs could come in any moment, you know.”

“McGee and I are everything you suspect we are.” Abby grinned.”

“Abby and I have been dating for a month now,” McGee quickly interrupted. “We were just talking about telling you guys when you walked in.”

“Does Gibbs know?” Tony asked.

“Know what, Tony?” They all jumped, expecting Gibbs but it was Ducky and Palmer.

“Hi Ducky.” Abby bounced on her platform heels. “We were just telling Tony that McGee and I have been dating.”

“I knew that,” Ducky said.

“Really? You are?” Palmer smiled. “Cool.”

“For a month now,” Abby added. “And we were going to tell you either this evening or Monday but since you’re here we’re telling you now.”

“Leaves Ziva,” McGee said.

“I’ll call her later,” Abby told him. “Maybe we can meet her and Ray for dinner or drinks later?”

“Sure.” McGee smiled, happily.

“Oh wait.” Abby turned back to Tony. “Sorry, Tony. You were saying about doing some group thing next weekend.”

“Yeah. Ducky? Palmer? Want to join us?” Tony asked.

The five of them began discussing options for the coming long weekend cum enforced vacation. Palmer looked like he’d just received divine deliverance.

“Thank You, Lord!” He cried out. Seeing the puzzled faces, he explained. “Now I can tell Breena I can’t go with her to stay with her family. You guys know I love her but her dad –”

“Say no more, Jimmy.” Tony patted him on the shoulder. “You’re one of the team and this is an order from the director – we’re to take leave as a team and go do some fun stuff together. Do that bonding thing, you know.”

“What about Gibbs?” McGee asked. “No way he’s going to go away with us.”

 “I fear Tim is right.” Ducky agreed. “Jethro is bound to just barricade himself in his basement with enough supplies to last the five days and more. Do you know he’s planning to have a toilet and shower added? The man might as well move down there permanently.”

“He’s got a huge backyard,” Tony said. “Big enough to build another house on – and he’s settling for just a toilet and shower?”

“Better dissuade him, DiNozzo, or you’ll never get him to leave that damned underground mausoleum.”

“I will.” Tony promised. “Look, I gotta head out and meet a friend. I’ll let you know on Monday what we’re doing. You guys don’t mind flying out somewhere?”

“I’d love to but –” Abby paused. “Tim and I are saving up for a house so we can’t splurge. We were thinking we could just rent a cabin by the lake? Wouldn’t be too expensive if we’re all sharing.” She bit her lip. “Sorry.”

 “You just told me you’ve been dating one month,” Tony said. “One. Month. Thirty days. And you’re saving up for a house? Why not just move in to the other’s apartment?”

“We only have studio apartments, Tony. Not all of us can afford three bedroom digs.” McGee paused. “Sorry. I didn’t mean –”

“It’s okay, McGee.” Tony patted McGee shoulder. “I know I can’t help coming off like a spoilt, insensitive –”

“Tony,” McGee pleaded. “I said I was sorry. And you’re not as bad as you used to be. Seriously, though, Abby’s right. We’ve got our sights on this lovely house. It’s old but with a makeover? It’ll be great. We put in a bid last week. It was accepted and we’re finalizing the paperwork.”

“That’s…that’s great.” Tony grinned. “So. Everyone’s getting married, huh?”

“Except you and Gibbs,” Palmer said. “Though I doubt Gibbs wants to try his luck with Number Five.” He laughed.

“Don’t let him hear you talk about that if you want to live, Palmer.” Tony warned. “Okay, I gotta run. I’ll figure something out and let u guys know on Monday.”

“And persuade Jethro to join us,” Ducky told Tony as the latter hurried out.

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

 

 

**Chapter 3**

 

 

_**Saturday Morning** _

 

“Ducky, it’s Tony.”

“Tony. Not a dead body, I hope,” Ducky said. “I was planning to work on the roses today.”

“No, not a case. I was wondering if I could come over and discuss something with you.”

“Why, of course. Louise is coming over for tea so that’ll give us a few hours if you’d like to come for lunch. I’ve got a roast in the oven. There’s enough for the two of us.”

“Thanks, Duck. I’ll be there in about an hour.”

Tony pulled up at Ducky’s driveway forty-five minutes later.

“My, my, Tony.” Ducky gave Tony’s white short-sleeved shirt and faded jeans a once-over as Tony stepped into the house. “I swear you’re looking more handsome each day. We’re so used to seeing each other in work-wear and when we’re in casual or evening wear, why it’s like looking at completely different people. It’s good to see your muscles are well-defined again and your biceps are,” Ducky leaned and whispered, “what Abby would call ‘hot’. You lost a lot of weight at the start of the year and were looking positively gaunt. Jethro was getting rather worried.”

“He was?” Tony brightened up. “Never said anything to me.” He’d caught a bad flu shortly after Christmas. It had traveled down to his gut making him puke up everything he ate for days. He’d finally gotten well but his appetite hadn’t returned. Gibbs had visited a couple of times, but with either Abby or McGee, never alone.

Ducky gave a soft snort. “There’s a lot that Jethro doesn’t say.” Ducky walked through to the enormous kitchen. “Especially when it comes to you, Tony.” he added.

 “Yeah, he just head slaps me,” Tony muttered. “I mean, why waste words when a whack to the skull would do?” Tony suddenly grinned. “Maybe that’s why his three marriages failed. He head slapped his wives, too.” He laughed at the thought.

Ducky tutted at the senior agent. “You shouldn’t poke fun at poor ol’ Jethro. He –”

“He’s not old,” Tony said. “Actually, he looks pretty good for his age, though those lines on around his eyes have gotten deeper lately. He needs sleep. A good solid night’s sleep. For  like three nights in a row.” _With me. No, scratch that. There’d be no sleeping._

“I agree,” Ducky said. “Here, take this to the dining table where I have a decanter of Shiraz breathing. You may pour us a glass. I’ll bring the salad.” He passed the roast beef to Tony. “Yes, as I was saying – we need to get Jethro out of the basement. You should invite him along for dinner or drinks more often, Tony. Trouble is, even if he went, the minute he gets home he heads down the stairs.”

“Like Count Dracula retiring to his coffin and emerging the next day. Or night, in Dracky’s case.” Tony poured out the Shiraz as Ducky started carving the roast. “Speaking of getting Jethro out of his coffin, that’s part of what I want to talk to you about.” Tony put a forkful of medium-rare roast beef into his mouth. “Mmm.” He swallowed. “Excellent, Chef Mallard.”

“Thank you.” Ducky lifted his glass. “To a good life, Anthony.” He took a good swallow, savored the finish then said, “Now what’s this about Jethro’s coffin?”

“What? No, I wanted to talk to you about a, um, personal matter. A highly personal matter and as far as I know, you’re the only one who would be able to relate to what I’m about to tell you and give me some advice.”

Ducky’s brows lifted but he didn’t comment. Instead, he dribbled balsamic and olive oil on his young spinach leaves and waited for Tony to elaborate.

“I inherited quite a lot of money,” Tony began. Ducky’s eyes lifted to Tony’s briefly. “My uncle, Clive, the one in the UK, he died last year and left me a considerable sum of money.” Tony paused. “It was transferred to my bank accounts yesterday afternoon. I’d set them up after the will was read shortly after he passed away last year.”

“Ah, yes. I remember you took a trip to London,” Ducky said. “Abby told me your uncle had died.”

“That was for the reading of the will. I couldn’t attend the funeral because I’d been shot by that petty officer I was chasing.”

“Marty Sawyer. Yes, Jethro killed him after Mr. Sawyer put that bullet in you. I remember when I was a young lad –”

“My uncle left me two hundred and seventy million pounds, Ducky.”

“— and I was…what did you say? Two hundred million?” Ducky’s eyes rounded.

“And seventy. Pounds Sterling.”

“My word.” Ducky put his cutlery down. “That’s over –”

“Four hundred and thirty million US dollars,” Tony said.

“That’s four times what mother left me.” Ducky looked at Tony, clearly stunned by the amount.

 “The two of us have more money than all the NCIS employees combined,” Tony muttered. “Hard to believe there were days back when I struggled to pay the rent. Got better the last couple of years but I haven’t forgotten living on instant noodles and the generosity of friends.”

“I thought your mother left you a trust fund,” Ducky said.

“Yeah, well, that didn’t kick in until I turned thirty. The lawyer mentioned something about my mother believing I’d be mature enough then not to blow it all away.” He waited a beat before adding, “- which was wise of her considering I _did_ blow away the graduation gift she bequeathed to me by doing an Asian tour with my frat brothers. That was a blast, though.” He sobered suddenly. “Gibbs is going to freak.”

“He didn’t when I told him about _my_ inheritance,” Ducky said. “In fact, I asked him to be the executor of my estate.”

“What did he say?”

“That he was honored.”

“That’s one question answered. Sort of. I’m thinking of asking Gibbs to be the executor of mine as well.”

“No reason why he won’t feel just as honored, Tony.”

“Yeah, well. I’m also going to be making him my main beneficiary with the remainder divided equally between Abby, Tim and Ziva.” Tony took another mouthful of roast beef and cut into the Yorkshire pudding. “And something for Jimmy, annoying as the autopsy gremlin is.”

Ducky sat back, stunned. “Tony. Are you sure? Don’t you have relatives? Favorite charities?”

“After my dad passed away two years ago? Only Uncle Clive and his son, my cousin Crispin - who inherited the bulk of the estate, by the way, and who already sits on the boards of several corporations around the world. I probably have some distant relatives from my dad’s side but I don’t see what that’s got to do with this since it wouldn’t make sense to track down some unknown relatives just so I can give them money. Not when the people who have been my family and my best friends are right here. In NCIS. I’ve known you and Abby from the day Gibbs brought me back with him to DC as his new probie. “

“Quite understandable.” Ducky nodded. “Have you spoken to Jethro?”

“No, but I’ll have to, soon. So you don’t think I’m making a mistake?”

“What? Making Gibbs both your executor and beneficiary? Making your team beneficiaries? As you said, they are your only family now.” Ducky leaned forward and said softly, “You would be quite alone without them, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes.” The meal, so delicious a moment ago, now tasted like wet cardboard. Tony picked up his wine and drank.

“It’s been nine years since Jethro brought you on board, as you say. I’ve known him longer and there’s no one else you’ll want to have your back. Abby, Ziva, Timothy…I don’t think you could work anywhere else, Tony. Not being able to walk in the bullpen and see the same beloved faces. I know I couldn’t. Imagine –” Ducky whispered conspiratorially even though there was just the two of them in the house. “ – no more head slaps.”

Tony looked back at Ducky. _I think I’d rather die_. “I wonder what would happen if I head slapped him back one of these days.”

They laughed at the thought.

“No, I don’t think you’re doing the wrong thing. I think this is your way of expressing your love, Tony,” Ducky said. “However, you do know there is every likelihood that you will live to a ripe old age and your team – with the exception of Gibbs – will be having spouses and children. You don’t know what those will turn out like.”

Tony’s mouth opened and closed as he went through the possible ramifications. “You’re right! CI-Ray could use Ziva’s share to fund weapons to the Colombian FARC in exchange for a cut in drug sales. Tim could run off with a gambling addict and Abby could end up with some redneck who’d spend it all on a Texas whorehouse with his redneck friends. And they’d have kids! Teenagers! Damn…what should I do?”

"Give it away _now_ , if you want to give it at all."

“What?” Tony stared at the old man. “You know…I think you’re right. What did _you_ do?”

“I set up a scholarship fund, gave to certain charities that I’ve been involved with, set up a fund for myself then bequeathed the rest to people special to me. However, much as we want to be in control by giving it away while we’re still alive, it’s not completely realistic. At some point we still have to trust our beneficiaries to have the wisdom to use the gift well.”

Tony nodded but didn’t say anything else, continuing to eat in relative silence while ducky rambled on about this and that.

“So you think I should give it away now, huh?”

“That’s your decision to make. However, in my opinion, it would be far wiser to share it with those you love and whom you trust rather than disseminating it clinically to charities you’re not even involved with. Your wealth is a responsibility, for sure, but it doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy it while you care for it.”

“Just what I was thinking, Duckman.” Tony smiled.

“Would you like some pear and apple crumble with your coffee?” Ducky asked, when they were done with the main course. “Louise made it and it’s rather delicious, if I may say so.”

“Then I wouldn’t dare not have any.” Tony got up from the table and started clearing away the dishes. “Looks like no dinner tonight. I’m stuffed. That long weekend Vance forced us to take?” He turned to Ducky with a thoughtful look. “I was thinking we all fly down to Key West.”

“Key West? What a wonderful idea,” Ducky said. “I’m sure the rest would love that…but you did hear Abby and Tim say they’re saving for a house and –”

“My treat, Ducky.”

“Ah, I see. Well, then…be ready for the inevitable questions.”

“I am. I’ll talk to Gibbs and I’ll tell the others on Monday. Maybe tomorrow. Right now, I have to look for a suitable hotel or vacation rental, book flights...and Thanksgiving's only five days away. I’m going to have to do all that by this weekend, don’t I?”

“That, I can help you with.” Ducky got up. “Just be a moment.” He returned with his cell phone. “Look.” He showed Tony some photos. “Louise’s sister runs a travel agency for high-end clients and Louise sent me these photos of Key West. She loves the Keys and visits every year. In fact, she just mentioned it last week. What a coincidence.” He eyed Tony. “If you believe in coincidences.”

Tony clicked through the photos and the more he saw, the more excited he got. “They look fabulous, Ducky, but these look a bit small. We need to have –” he started counting off the rooms they’d need. “Louise will come, won’t she?”

“I’m sure Louise would love to but I’ll ask her when she arrives later if she can take the time off. Oh, and Palmer said Breena’s going to visit her family, remember?”

“That’s right,” Tony recalled the discussion yesterday. “We’ll need three doubles and three singles minimum. You couples can have the doubles. Gibbs, Palmer and I can take the singles.”

“Let me make a call to Carla, Louise’s sister, and get some data on what’s available.” Ducky scrolled through his contacts till he found Carla’s number. “Hello, Carla. Dr. Mallard here. Yes, Ducky. Yes, she’ll be here about four. I called to ask if you have a vacation rental available in Key West for next weekend. Yes, it’s a bit of a rush. I apologize. We need a house with six bedrooms. At least three doubles, preferably.” Ducky looked at Tony. “She’s checking.” He said on the side. “Yes, I’ll hold.” He switched to speaker so Tony could hear as well.

“Ducky?” Carla came back on. “I’m sorry we’re fully-booked for the beachside villas and none of them have that many bedrooms. I’m afraid the hotels aren’t looking good either. It’s the Thanksgiving weekend, after all. I’m sorry, but if anything does come on – oh wait. Something just did.” The sound of keys clacking told the two men Carla was checking something. “Whoever this is for, is one very lucky person," she said, coming back on. "A house just became available. It belongs to a friend of mine, actually. His p.a. had told me it wouldn’t be available until next month but she’s just emailed me to say it’s ready now. But it has only 5 bedrooms, three doubles with king-size beds and only two single rooms but they are much larger than usual and come with queen-size beds so if your guests aren’t big strapping men, it can sleep two. All with attached.

“I think we can manage,” Ducky said, smiling. “There’ll be nine of us.”

 “Any photos?” Tony asked. Ducky repeated the question for Carla.

“Sure do,” Carla said. “I’ll send them to your phone. But Ducky, I rec you snap this up. It’s a gorgeous house and both Louise and I have stayed there. The single rooms are very well-appointed, just without a balcony which all the doubles have.”

By the time Tony left Ducky’s, he’d called the rest of the team who, despite being astounded by Tony’s generosity, allowed him to confirm the trip. It hadn’t been an easy task getting past McGee and Abby, or Ziva. He didn’t even want to think about Gibbs.

“Tony!” Abby had snapped. “You tell me what’s going on or I’m not going anywhere.”

“Neither am I!” McGee had added after grabbing the phone from Abby.

“Tony, did you rob a bank?” Ziva had asked when Tony called to update her. “Are you having a breakdown? I should call Ducky.” Ziva finally agreed to the trip after checking with Abby.

Palmer had merely asked if Dr Mallard was going, got the go-ahead from Ducky himself and happily left his fate in Tony’s hands.

That just left Gibbs. Tony was about to swing by Gibbs’ place when Ryan, his frat brother, called. He was flying off at midnight and wanted to know if Tony could have dinner with him before he left for the airport.

Gibbs could wait, Tony thought, as he agreed to meet Ryan. He hoped Ryan didn’t try to set him up with another blind date, which was what he did last night. He’d met Charlene when he was in uni and Charlene had been very open about her crush on him. Last night showed she was still crushing.

Tony gave a shiver then thought he wasn’t much different. He probably carried on about Gibbs the same way when Gibbs brought him home nine years ago.

Like a stray.

And now he was even more in love with Leroy Jethro Gibbs, if that was possible. At least Charlene was only fifteen when they first met at Ryan’s house. He was thirty when he first met Gibbs. Thirty-eight now and still felt like an adolescent with his first crush where Gibbs was concerned.

Ever since that weekend when Gibbs offered him a spot on his team – not that there was a team yet, Tony was to be the first – he’d felt as if he’d been handed a lifeline. In many ways it was.

Day after day as the years flew by, Gibbs had been there for him at every critical moment.

Like when he’d caught the plague - and Tony had almost made the mistake of thinking Gibbs’ caring was indicative of deeper feelings. Well, it was. Just not the kind Tony was hoping for.

He knew that over the years, Gibbs had come to love him. Except it was no different from the love he had for Abby. And then that love had enlarged to include McGee and Ziva.

Gibbs was the eldest brother. The one who took care of the family; the one they went to for counsel and answers to what-next questions.

He was the one Tony went to after he learnt his father had died of a massive heart attack. The old man had been in Monte Carlo while on holiday with his latest fiancée. Gibbs had offered him the guestroom – the first of only two times - and cooked for him the entire weekend, even sitting and watching movies with him. Then he’d told Tony about his own estrangement with Jackson, his father. They talked about their mothers, Gibbs’ time with the Marines and Tony told him about college days and his time with the police force. Tony never mentioned what else he did on the police force. Or why he was there in the first place.

They’d talked about the ex-wives (Gibbs’) and the bimbos (Tony’s) but never mentioned Shannon and Kelly. Tony never asked about them just as Gibbs never asked why Tony still hadn’t found someone to settle down with when he was already in his late thirties.

There were times when he thought Gibbs knew he was gay. Or suspected, at least. Gibbs had that way of looking at you that made you feel nothing got past him. Not even your deepest, darkest secrets. One of these days, he’d probably have to tell Gibbs he had been more than just a cop; more than just an undercover cop with the vice squad before his transfer to BPD’s homicide division.

That was just his past where work was concerned. His personal secrets were even deeper and darker than he cared to admit. He wasn’t only gay, he wanted to do the kind of things with Gibbs, _to_ Gibbs, that would have the boss shooting his balls off with his Sig if he knew.

Unless Gibbs was gay, too.

Yeah. Right.

 


	4. Chapter 4

 

 

 

 

**Chapter 4**

 

_**Saturday Night;** _

_**Gibbs’ Basement** _

 

Gibbs put the sander down and poured himself two fingers. As he expected, Tony hadn’t shown up last night. It had been a few months since he’d spent a Friday night without Tony. There was nothing fixed. They didn’t even check with each other on the way out of the office whether Tony would be bringing dinner over. If nothing was said, both simply assumed neither had a date elsewhere and Tony would be there.

A date. Gibbs hadn’t been on one for a year, at least. Not after Allison Hart had told him to get out of her apartment and not return. He sighed, shaking his head. Sex with Hart had been fast and furious - and had been equally forgettable until he needed the next release. He didn’t blame her one bit for throwing him out. Respected her for it, as he respected his ex-wives. He was nothing if not a Bastard with a capital ‘B’ when it came to relationships.

He didn’t like that but he didn’t really want to turn down sex either, so he’d turned it around and started turning up at her apartment instead.

And locking his door. But he’d given Tony a key. How telling was _that_.

Gibbs wondered what Tony was doing now. He knew he was out with one of his frat brothers last night and must have gotten pretty plastered not to have shown up at all. There were Fridays when Tony didn’t come round with dinner but would still drop in after his date. Gibbs wondered, too, whether those times were dates with women and the Fridays Tony didn’t show up at all were when he was out with a man. And spent the night together, if not all weekend. Why bother to date women at all? To keep up the front, probably. He’d never ask Tony, of course.

“I swear one of these nights, I’m going to come down here and find your decomposing carcass, Jethro.”

Gibbs set his glass down, swiveling around to his visitor. “Doesn’t say much for you, Fornell. You’re the one visiting me in my basement on a Saturday night.”

“It was my turn to babysit but Emily’s not staying with me this weekend.” Fornell reached the last step. “You know – you should get out more often.”

Gibbs gave his best friend a glare.

“I’m serious. I don’t like seeing you alone.”

“I like alone.”

“And lonely.”

“Not lonely,” came the instant rebuttal.

“What are you doing for Thanksgiving weekend this year?” Fornell asked. “Same as last year? And the year before that?”

“Did you come here just to harass me, Tobias? It’s past midnight. Give it a rest.” Gibbs emptied a jar and poured out a finger of bourbon before handing it to Fornell.

“I came here to invite you over for Thanksgiving, you old grouch. You’re alone too much.”

“Told ya. I like alone. But thank you for the invitation.”

“So, you coming, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, unless something more exciting turns up.”

“Fuck you, too,” Fornell grinned then sobered. “I’m serious, Jethro. You shouldn’t be alone so much.”

Gibbs expelled a breath of irritation. “Quit, Fornell. I am not alone. I am not lonely. I have friends. Family.”

“Who?”

“You!”

Fornell snorted. “What about family? A father you hardly see doesn’t count.”

“I’ve got family. Abby. Ziva. McGee. Tony. Duc –”

“If they’re family, or even friends, then why are you stuck in your basement every weekend _alone_? Why haven’t they invited you to do something over the Thanksgiving weekend? You know why you’re alone here every fucking weekend? Because you won’t put out, that’s why!”

Gibbs gave a bark of laughter. “How old are you, Fornell? I won’t ‘put out’?”

“Yeah!” Fornell pulled a stool over, prepared for a long night. He was genuinely concerned for his friend and hated the thought of Jethro spending the rest of his life alone because if there was anyone who needed someone, it was Gibbs. Trouble was, there was only one woman like Shannon – Shannon herself. “You need to give yourself a chance, Jethro. And you can start by not denying you’re alone and that you’re the cause of your aloneness.”

“How many times do I have to tell you I am not alone or –”

“Wait. Are you hiding some friends here coz I don’t see any except me. You got family members locked away here? Coz I didn’t see any when I arrived. In fact, all I saw was your usual lonesome self. And if you insist your team is your family, then where are they on this lovely Saturday night? Where were they _last_ night? Out with friends! Like normal people.”

“What were _you_ doing last night, Tobias?” Gibbs asked. “Oh, you got lucky. I know. Just not the type of lucky we’re talking about, is it?”

Fornell swore. “Okay, okay. So I was out taking down bad guys and got the fucker sitting in a cell right now but I don’t do that every weekend and when I’m not, I don’t hide in my basement. You – if I didn’t drop by tonight you’d be what? ‘ _Alone again, naturally_ ’,” he sang.

“Gilbert O’Sullivan; 1972,” The new visitor said. “No, he wouldn’t be. Not this weekend. Or next.” Fornell turned. “Hi Fornell. Sorry, I’m late, Gibbs. Drove my frat brother to the airport after dinner.” Tony put the six-pack down and another takeaway bag. Gibbs’ favorite Chinese. “Beer?” he asked Fornell, breaking one out for himself. He took out the box of kungpao chicken and rice and handed it to Gibbs. “Thought you might be hungry.”

“Thanks, Tony.” Gibbs smirked at Fornell who declined the beer.

“I’ll be going now that uh, your family’s home.” Fornell slid off his stool. “Let me know about Thanksgiving.”

“I’ll be there,” Gibbs said.

“Wait. Be where?” Tony asked.

“Fornell invited me to his place for Thanksgiving dinner.”

“You can’t go,” Tony told Gibbs.

“Oh really.” Gibbs looked at Tony as if he’d never seen him before.

Fornell frowned, intrigued. “Yeah. Why not?”

“Because you’re coming with us to Key West,” Tony replied.

“And who’s ‘us’?” Gibbs asked.

“The team. Ducky, Abby, Palmer,” Tony replied.

“And who decided this for me?”

“We did. Team Gibbs.” Tony drank his beer. “Eat, boss.” He gestured at the kungpao chicken in Gibbs’ hand.

Gibbs dug into his chicken. Fornell hopped back onto his stool. “I thought you were going home.” Gibbs growled at Fornell.

“Nah. Show’s just started.” Fornell grinned.

“Go home, Tobias,” Gibbs said without looking up from his chicken.

“Sorry, Fornell, but I need to talk to Gibbs. Privately.”

“Going.” Fornell threw up his hands. At the stairs, he turned. “Hey, DiNotzo.” Tony looked up. “Glad you’re here. Don’t forget to tuck him in bed.” He went up a step and stopped. “Stick your pacifier in his mouth if he’s still fretful.” He chuckled the rest of the way up and out.

 

 

 

 

 

* * * * *

 

“What did he say?” Tony frowned as the door to the basement shut.”

“Start again,” Gibbs said, ignoring Tony’s question. Fornell had asked him one night whether he was having the hots for his senior agent. Gibbs had slammed that door shut and Fornell had not broached the subject again. "Where am I going?"

Tony told him about their upcoming trip to Key West and that he’d already arranged for the flights including the vacation house.

“Tony,” Gibbs began. “McGee and Abby can’t afford a holiday. They just bought a house.”

“You know about McGee and Abby?” Tony asked, surprised. Gibbs gave him a what-do-you-think look. “You know they bought a house? I only found out yesterday!”

 “Abby told me while you were out of the office one day.” Gibbs gave a small sigh then asked, “How’s McGee and Abby going to pay for the trip? And Palmer. He and Breena have a mortgage, too, and planning to have a baby.”

Tony looked nonplussed. “How do you know all this before I do? I’m supposed to be the nosy one.”

“Haven’t answered my question.”

“I’m paying for them.”

Gibbs eyes bored into Tony.

“For everyone. For the whole trip.”

“Got a good explanation for that, DiNozzo?” Gibbs tilted his head, waiting for Tony to explain.

“Yesterday,” Tony began. “I went to my Uncle Clive’s lawyers like I told you. Signed off on the confirmation that I received the funds he bequeathed to me. I thought I’d celebrate by taking us all on holiday…seeing as, you know…we were planning what to do since we had five days off. That’s still on, isn’t it? We won’t get recalled or something?”

“Not unless both our backup teams are down and if they are, then we’ve got bigger problems than a cancelled vacation. No, we’re fine. Question is, are you?”

“What? ‘Course I’m fine. Looking forward to the R & R. So you’re okay with coming along? If you’re not, I can always cancel your ticket…but it would be cool if you come. I mean Abby would kill me if I didn’t get you to come with us.” He paused. “And uhh, I’d like you to.”

Gibbs put down his chopsticks and looked at Tony. “Are you intending to blow your entire inheritance in a week? Because if you carry on this way, it will be gone by then, if not before.”

“No, boss.” Tony shook his head. “Not going to blow it. Sure, I have a couple of things I want to get but it’s not what you think.” He smiled.

“Oh, so no fire engine red Ferrari?”

“No. Well, maybe next year…”

“Tony.”

“Serious, boss. No splurging. Except for this vacation.”

“Why are you doing this? Paying for everyone? I can understand paying for McGee and Abs but why the rest of us? We can pay our own way. Even Palmer. If his wife allows it. Ducky definitely can.”

“I know. Told ya. Just celebrating my good fortune. And what better way to do it than with the people I care about?”

Gibbs merely gave a small huff and a smile and picked up his chopsticks.

“Promise me you won’t freak cos I gotta tell you something.” Tony put his carton down.  “The money my uncle left me.” Tony paused. Gibbs looked at him, brows beetling. “It’s a lot.” Gibbs’ glare got fiercer. “It’s _a lot_ lot.” Tony amended.

Gibbs put his food and chopsticks down. “DiNozzo,” he said, warningly.

“Several million.”

Gibbs felt sucker-punched. “Several million what?” he asked. “Indonesian Rupiahs?”

“Dollars. US.”

Gibbs looked at Tony stonily.

“Boss? You promised you wouldn’t freak.”

“Promised no such thing.” Gibbs reached for the bottle of bourbon. “Hell, DiNozzo! Why did your uncle leave you so much money? I thought he had a son!”

“I’ll tell you. If you calm down.” Tony went to stand beside Gibbs, leaning back against the worktable. “Guess my uncle liked me more than I thought. I do have a cousin. Crispin. Very different from me. Very straitlaced. No sense of humor. I’m sure Uncle Clive found him in a cabbage patch. Anyway, Crispin’s very well-off in his own right. His mother left her fortune to him…and Uncle Clive left him the bulk of his. I – just got a bit…of it…” His voice trailed off as he saw the expression on Gibbs’ face. “What’s wrong?”

“What are you going to do now?” Gibbs asked, sounding tired all of a sudden.

“Go home. Get some sleep. Got laundry to do in the morning.”

“I meant about the money.” _Are you going to leave NCIS? Leave me?_

“Oh, that.” Tony laughed softly. “I uhh, went to see Ducky earlier today. Talked about setting up trusts and stuff. Like what he did. Then made we arrangements with Louise’s sister, Carla. She’s a travel consultant and she’s taking care of all our requirements for Key West.” Tony grinned, looking like a kid about to go on his first rollercoaster ride.

Gibbs looked at him and felt his chest ache. “I mean about your plans for your career now that you don’t have to be a government employee. Will you be setting up a business? Buy a DVD store? Retire to LA?”

“LA? You kidding. Those NCIS LA guys are a bunch of pussies.”

“Don’t have to work in NCIS. Don’t have to work. Period.”

“Why not? I like working here. With the team. Team Gibbs rocks.”

Gibbs smiled at that.

“Why are you even asking me this?” Tony’s hands lifted in question. “Have I given the slightest indication I was having itchy feet?”

“Tony.” Gibbs just about rolled his eyes. “You last only two years at each police department. You were coming up to the end of your second year at Baltimore when I met you.”

“I’ve been with NCIS nine years.” Tony pointed out. “Leaving never occurred to me. And if you thought I wasn’t a stayer, why did you offer me a job?”

“Because you were good,” Gibbs replied. “Thought I’d see if I could do something with you.”

“Rule Number Five,” Tony said softly. “I’ve wasted good before, Gibbs. _You_ taught me to do different. That’s why I’m being careful with my inheritance. That’s why I went to see Ducky.”

Gibbs gave a small nod but continued to stare into his glass. Tony thought this may not be a good time to tell Gibbs he’d made the older man his beneficiary so he left that out and told him about the executorship.

“Ducky thinks it’s a good idea,” Tony said. “He told me you felt honored that he asked you.” He waited for Gibbs’ response but the other man remained silent. “You’ll accept?”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Okay.” Tony pushed off the table edge. “Better get going.” He grabbed his empty cartons and chopsticks.

“Welcome to use the guestroom.”

“Thanks but I want to get the washing done early tomorrow.” He waited for Gibbs to ask him to come by at lunch but he didn’t so Tony headed for the stairs. “See you  Monday.”

 

 

_**Sunday Morning** _

Tony woke up to the sun on his face. Grimacing, he pulled a pillow over his eyes.

Another restless night filled with dreams of Gibbs. Gibbs touching him. Gibbs kissing him. Gibbs telling him he loved him, always had...he’d woken sometime before dawn with the scent of Gibbs around him, as if Gibbs had been there in his room and they had really made love before he vanished.

Fuck, this was crazy. He was going crazy. Tony drew in a deep breath. “Gibbs”, he whispered raggedly. God, he wanted the man so badly he couldn’t see straight, couldn’t think straight. For one insane moment, he contemplated coming out to Gibbs just to see the man’s reaction. If the boss didn’t freak, he could work up to the next step. Who knew? Maybe miracles did happen. Hey, he did just sign off on four hundred and thirty million dollars. Like that was any less of a miracle.

But Gibbs was different. The man came from another dimension, Tony was sure of it.

 He threw the pillow off and winced at the bright sunlight. He’d pulled down the blinds last night and it had collapsed, hitting him on the head. The whole frickin’ apartment was coming apart but now he had the money to buy one instead of renting. A brand-new one, not another run-down unit, even if it had three bedrooms, as McGee griped.

Speaking of McGee, Tony grabbed his phone and called him.  “Hey, Tim.”

“Hi Tony. Just about to read Carla’s email. She’s up and running early. And it’s a Saturday.”

The man sounded so excited. Tony didn’t blame him. He was pretty chuffed himself that Gibbs was going.

“McGee, the Great White’s coming,” Tony told him.

“He is?”

“Yup. Went over last night and talked to him about it. He was asking about whether you and Abby could handle the expense so I told him I was treating the team.”

“What did he have to say to that?”

“Just wanted to make sure I knew what I was doing.”

“That’s it?” McGee asked.

“Yup.”

“Great.” McGee yelled over to Abby that Gibbs was going on the trip. Tony could hear Abby’s excited response over the phone.

“Err, Tony –” McGee said, a few seconds later. “Our flights –”

 “What about them?”

“Carla’s email has our departure time as ten a.m., arriving shortly after noon.”

“Sounds good,” Tony said. “As long as I don’t have to wake up at four in the morning. Not when I’m on vacation.”

“Tony, it says here the aircraft is a Gulf Stream IV. There must be something wrong.”

“Nah, Carla told me there weren’t any seats available on commercial for nine of us. Not even first class. It _is_ for  Thanksgiving, you realize that? Which is five days away.”

“But – but –”

“McGee.” Tony’s tone had the desired effect. “It’s okay. I’m paying. I told you.”

“Tony.” _This is a bad idea_ , McGee muttered under his breath.

“It’s a great idea,” Tony said, taking the words right out of McGee’s head. “I told Carla to go ahead as soon as she suggested it. McGee, I’ll explain later, okay? Trust me.”

“You’ve said that before and I’ve always regretted it.”

“Hey! Have I ever let you down?”

“Tony…Abs! Abby’s here, Tony.” McGee thrust the cell phone at Abby.

“Hey, Tony. So Gibbs is coming with us? That is _so_ cool.” Abby chirped then saw McGee’s worried face. “Tony, Tim’s telling me to ask you about the private jet. What private jet?”

“Err…” Tony vacillated. He’d hoped to tell the team when he got in to work but decided, as he went to bed last night, that it would have to be before Monday since all of them would have received their flight and accommodation details from Carla by now. He should have told her to send everything to him only. “Abs, remember my Uncle Clive who died last year? Well, he left me some money –”

“He did? Cool!”

“Yeah, so I’m paying for the team’s holiday – “

“Yeah, you told us that yesterday. Oh shoot.” Abby’s voice went from her usual cheery to worried. “Is that what Tim’s talking about? That private jet?” Abby glanced over at McGee. Who was furiously nodding his head. “Tony, you didn’t hire a private jet, did you? Seriously, Tony. I’m going to shit myself if you did.”

“All flights are booked out, Abs. It’s the Thanksgiving weekend and that’s just a few days away.”

“Tony. Even if your uncle left you enough money to hire us a private jet, you know Gibbs is going to kill you when he finds out, don’t you?”

“Probably.”

“And I know you haven’t told him because you’re alive.”

“It’s okay, Abs. I’ll go talk to him tonight. It’ll be fine.”

“Then explain it to me. Why is it fine, Tony?”

“Abs, put the call on speaker because this is for Tim, too.”

“Oh, okay.” Abs frowned, getting more worried now. “Okay, speaker on.”

“Right. Listen, guys.” Tony licked his lips. “My uncle left me a sizable amount of money. Not gonna tell you how much but enough to pay for our holiday, including the private jet and villa, okay? Entire trip’s on me, including meals.”

Silence met his announcement.

“Hey. You guys there?” Tony asked.

“Yes, Abby replied, uncharacteristically subdued.

“Yeah, we’re here.” McGee cleared his throat. “Have you told Gibbs?”

“Yeah. Last night.”

“Tony.” Abby’s voice was quiet. “Are you alright? Did the bequest come with some life-changing condition?”

“What? No.”

“You don’t have to get married and stay married for three years or something to keep your inheritance?”

“No, Abs. No strings attached.”

“Then why are you so calm?”

“Yeah, Tony,” McGee added. “This isn’t like you.”

“So we’re worried,” Abby said. “You should be jumping up and down, doing cartwheels, calling up all your frat brothers.” She paused, then in a softer voice added, “and handing in your resignation.”

Tony sighed. Maybe he should have called the team over to his apartment and told them in person. He could still do that. “Why don’t you guys come over for lunch and we’ll talk.”

“Yeah, we could do that,” McGee said, looking over at Abby. Abby nodded.

“I’ll call Ziva,” Tony said.

He rang off and called Ziva, who answered after several rings. “Hey, Ziva.”

“Hi Tony.”

“Not interrupting anything, am I?”

“I wish. No, Ray just left for the airport. His last trip before he grounds himself.” She laughed. “What’s up?”

“You free to come over? Tim and Abs are on their way. I need to talk to you guys about something. Lunch is on its way as we speak.”

“Sounds serious if it can’t wait until tomorrow. Nothing’s wrong, is there?”

“No. Are you coming?”

“Yes. I’ll be there. Give me twenty minutes.”

 


	5. Chapter 5

 

**Chapter 5**

 

  
“Tony!” Abby launched herself at Tony as soon as he opened his door. “Have you seen the photos of the house? Carla sent the link. It’s gorgeous!”

“Lunch here yet?” McGee asked. “I’m starving.” He headed towards the kitchen. “Is Ziva coming?”

The doorbell chimed just then and Tony opened the door to their colleague. Five minutes later, he was opening the door again to the guy delivering their lunch.

They settled down to eat while chatting over the upcoming trip, Tony’s laptop open on the dining table and logged on to the website showing the villa.

“It’s lovely, Tony,” Ziva said. “I hope Ray makes it back in time.”

Everyone paused, forks stilling in mid-air.

“What do you mean?” Abby asked. “Of course he’ll be back.” She narrowed her eyes at Ziva. “Won’t he?”

“Yes,” Ziva replied. “Unless something comes up – which usually does. That’s why he asked for a transfer.”

Tony eyed her, sensing there was more to it than Ziva was telling.

“We need to allocate the bedrooms,” Abby said. “We only have 3 double rooms with king-size beds and 2 singles, with queen-size beds.”

“Okay, let’s see how we do this.” Tony scanned through the specs with them as he ate.

“Well, Ziva and Ray will take one double,” McGee said.

“You and Abby the other,” Tony added. “And Ducky and Louise the third one.”

“No.” McGee pointed to the list of names. “That leaves three of you – you, Gibbs and Palmer and there are only two single rooms. I don’t think Palmer wants to share a queen-size bed with a six-foot Marine.”

“I don’t think Palmer wants to share any room, never mind a bed, with Gibbs.” Ziva stated, helping herself to more food.

"And I don't really want to share a room with the autopsy gremlin," Tony muttered. "But --"

McGee frowned at the specs. “Wait. It says here one of the doubles is a Master Suite and set in its own wing, away from the other rooms. Let me see…okay.” He straightened up. “Abby and I can take one of the regular double rooms. Ziva and Ray will take the other one. Then Palmer can have one of the singles. That leaves Ducky and Louise, Tony and Gibbs, and one Master Suite and one single.”

“It’s a no-brainer,” Abby said.

“It is?” Tony asked.

“Of course,” Abby said. “Ducky and Louise can take the single room because it’s got a queen-size bed and can still sleep two comfortably if you’re not tall guys like you and Gibbs.”

“And Ducky is tiny,” Ziva said. “Louise is only an inch taller than him. Yes, it is a no-brainer. You and Gibbs will share the Master Suite. Tony. After all, you are paying for the holiday and Gibbs is the boss. You should both be in the Master Suite.”

“If it isn’t okay, I’m sure Palmer won’t mind taking the couch then Abby and I will sleep in the single and Gibbs or you can have our double.” McGee offered.

“No.” Tony shook his head. “Getting too confusing. Your allocation’s good, Abs, Ziva. I don’t mind sharing a room with Gibbs. Shared hotel rooms with him before. He doesn’t snore. Snuffles a little but that’s about it.”

“Yes, but you’ll be sharing a bed this time,” McGee said.

Of course Tony realized that. Of course, all it took was for him to tell Carla to exchange the king-size bed for two singles. But he wasn’t going to. He, as he’d decided when he got out of bed this morning, was going to try and get to first base. If Gibbs didn’t bat an eyelid at having to a share a bed with him, he could consider getting to second base.

“And you’re a fidgety sleeper,” McGee added. “Gibbs is not going to like that.”

“And how would you know I’m a ‘fidgety’ sleeper, McGee? Or that Gibbs wouldn’t like it?” Tony clicked on more thumbnails on the site.

“Gibbs told us,” McGee replied, smugly.

Tony looked up. “When?”

“Remember that time you came in to work with a bump on your forehead? You wouldn’t tell us how you got it but Gibbs did. Said you fell off his couch and hit your head on the coffee table. And that it was what you get for fidgeting even when you're sleeping. Guess you slept in his guest room from then on, huh? Did he have to get you a cot?”

 “Shut up, Probie.”

“I’m not a –” McGee started to protest.

“Tell me,” Ziva interrupted. “What do you and Gibbs talk about when you visit him after work? You go over to his place every Friday, don’t you?”

“How did you know that?” Tony asked, frowning. He’d never talked about his Friday nights at Gibbs.

“Allison Hart told us,” McGee said.

“What?” Tony almost choked on the lasagna he’d spooned into his mouth. “Allison Hart! How –”

“We overheard her asking Gibbs one evening whether he wanted to go for dinner,” Ziva said. “You’d gone to the men’s room. Gibbs said, no, he had something on and Allison said, ‘oh yes, it’s Friday. DiNozzo night.’”

“Then you walked back into the bullpen and she gave you a dirty look,” Abby added. “Then she gave Gibbs an even dirtier look before she stomped out.”

Tony laughed. “I’m sure Allison Hart did not _stomp_ out. The dirty looks, yeah. She didn’t hide the fact that she wanted Gibbs, but stomp? Nah. She loved her killer stilettos too much. Never trust a lawyer who wears stilettos to work, I say.”

“Back to my question,” Ziva reminded them. “Is Gibbs chattier back home on weekends?”

“Have you ever stayed the whole weekend?” Abby asked.

“Why would you?” McGee frowned. “You see him every day at work.”

“Does he head slap you outside of work?” Ziva asked.

The questions came one after another and Tony had to whistle them to a halt. “ _Hey_!” He got up from the table and took his plate to the sink, rinsed it then stuck it into the dishwasher. “Beer, Tim?”

“Yeah, thanks.” McGee smiled. His relationship with Tony had undergone a gradual change, especially over the last couple of years. Tony still teased him, of course, but it no longer hurt or aggravated him, unlike the insults of the early years. He realized it was all part of who Tony was  – harmless fun. Under the brash exterior was, believe it or not, a man who was sensitive and caring. Not that he’d tell Tony that. Their friendship hadn’t gotten _that_ far.

McGee just hadn’t figured out why Tony hid his real nature, why he went about as if nothing touched him and that everything that would normally affect another person was just water off a duck’s back with him. Probably perceived caring as a weakness.

“Gibbs doesn’t talk much even at home,” Tony said, returning to the table with two bottles of Miller. “I like hanging out over at his place because I don’t have to talk but still have company.”

“You don’t like being alone.” Ziva concluded.

“No, I don’t, but I don’t like having to talk all the time either.”

“Well, that’s a new one.” McGee snickered then stopped when Abby poked him in the ribs. “Actually, that’s what I’ve noticed.” he quickly said, instead.

“What?” Tony asked.

“That you’ve toned down a lot. This past year and a half.”

“Is everything alright, Tony?” Abby asked.

“Yes! Why do you keep asking me if I’m alright? And why aren’t you guys jumping on me with questions about my Uncle Clive’s bequest? Is there something wrong with _you_ guys?” Tony threw back. “You’re all being uncharacteristically restrained.”

“Well,” Ziva said. “We thought it is a private matter and that you would tell us when you are ready.” Tony gave her a disbelieving look.

“It’s true, Tony,” McGee said. “We didn’t want to jinx anything either.”

“Jinx what?” Tony asked, puzzled at the turn the conversation was taking.

“You,” Abby replied.

“You’ve been uhh…more mature, sensitive and uhh – _nice_ lately.” McGee looked between Tony and Ziva as if he wasn’t sure if he should be saying what he just did. He really hadn’t been planning to. It just sort of came out. He looked at the two women who were now staring at him. “Well, it’s true! Everything’s been going fine. Especially between you and Gibbs. He’s less aggravated by you. We think it’s because you’ve changed…and we think maybe it’s having lost your dad last year.” He paused. “Is it?”

All eyes swiveled to Tony. They’d been wanting to ask him about DiNozzo Snr but there hadn’t been a right time. Plus Tony himself had sidestepped all attempts to engage him in any discussion involving his father. The two men’s difficult relationship had been a source of aggravation for the senior agent and Gibbs had had to step in on a few occasions and tell them to leave Tony alone.

Now, though, may be the right time, McGee thought, especially since it was Tony who had invited them to his home “to talk”.

Tony shook his head, chuckling a little. “Too many threads here. I’m lost.”

“That’s because you don’t talk enough these days, Tony.” Ziva glared at him.

Tony gave a bark of laughter.” Moi?” He poked at his chest. “Did I hear right? I don’t talk enough?”

“I think you know what we mean, Tony.” Ziva persisted. “You go to Gibbs’ house every Friday after work just to be with someone and Not Talk. Do you know how  strange that is? Especially for you?”

“So we want to know if everything’s okay with you.” Abby looked at Tony. Eyes soulful, mouth slightly trembling. “I’ve been telling McGee something’s troubling you lately but he won’t let me ask you. But I’m asking, anyway.”

“Because I figured we’re all close enough that if you need to, and want to, you’ll talk to us,” McGee said, in defense. “Like now. So what did you want to talk to us about?”

“Let’s go to the couch,” Tony said, getting up. They cleared the table, loaded and started up the dishwasher then adjourned to the living area.

Abby and Ziva glanced at each and Abby grabbed hold of McGee’s hand as they settled on the couch. The three of them had been discussing Tony’s subdued demeanor for some time now but hadn’t been able to put a finger on it. Gibbs, too, had been a subject of intense scrutiny and discussion but they couldn’t figure him out either. And if they didn’t think they could talk to Tony, the thought of asking Gibbs never crossed their mind. At least, they didn’t mention it to each other, even if each one wished he or she could get into Leroy Jethro Gibbs’ head.

 “Right.” Tony settled back on the armchair. “First, I’m over my father’s passing. Yes, it hit me harder than I thought it would especially when all I’d gotten from him was a bunch of unpaid credit card bills, IOUs and creditors demanding payment. Thankfully, Dad did have more than enough to pay off everything. I’d hoped I’d get to see him more before he died but he was working on another big deal.” He shrugged. “Anyway, my uncle Clive died a few months after Dad. I always got along with him, though whether that was because we’d only seen each other a handful of times, I don’t know…”

 “You said you connected with your uncle during your times together far more than you ever did with your father,” McGee said.

“Yeah, I did. In fact, the summer I spent at Uncle Clive’s estate with him was more than the total number of days I’d ever spent with my father since I was in boarding school and they were the best days of my childhood after mom died. But you know what? Things weren’t so bad with me and Dad the year before he died.”

“Is that why in the last two years you’ve grown more serious?” Ziva asked. “Because despite the less-than-ideal relationship with your father, he was still your father and he died when things were just getting better. And then your uncle died, too.”

Tony laughed softly. “Maybe I’ve finally grown _up_ , like you used to tell me to do, Zeevah.”

“I never meant it in a mean way, Tony,” Ziva said, seriously. “I only said it when you were being a bite in the ass.”

“’Pain’, Ziva. ‘Pain’, not ‘bite’.” Tony corrected. “Anyway, the reason why you’re all here is to clear the air about my inheritance.”

“What inheritance?” Ziva asked.

Tony filled her in on what Abby and McGee already knew. “So I went to Ducky and asked him for advice since Mrs. Mallard had left him a considerable sum of money when she died. I won’t go into the details, if you don’t mind, but I just want to say that I decided to give us all a treat because there’s no one else I’d rather share my blessings with.”

“Aww…Tony, that’s so sweet.” Abby got up and hugged him. “But –”

“Yes, I’m about to answer the ‘buts’, Abs. Go sit back down.” Abby returned to her place next to McGee, who pulled her close to him. “First, I am not resigning, Abs. Yes, I inherited a large sum. Not telling you how much but enough to pay for this holiday. Yeah, Gulf Stream and all.”

“What Gulf Stream?” Ziva asked.

“You obviously haven’t checked your email,” McGee said. “Tony’s leased a Gulf Stream IV to fly us to Key West because all the flights are booked.”

“That’s very generous of you, Tony,” Ziva said. “You have received the funds from your uncle’s estate already, I hope. Because NCIS does not pay me enough to fly by private aircraft and neither is Ray a rich man. And does Gibbs know? About your inheritance and the Gulf stream?”

“Yes to two, no to one,” Tony replied. “Yes, I received the funds from Uncle Clive’s estate. Yes, Gibbs knows about my inheritance and no, I haven’t told him about the Gulf Stream because I only found out about it from McGee just before you guys came over.”

“How can you not know?” Ziva asked. “You leased it.”

“I only told Carla to get us whatever seats she could, failing which, to lease a private jet. Obviously, she couldn’t get us commercial. I called her before you guys arrived because she needed to sort out some niggly details. But –” he held up a finger to shush Abby who had opened her mouth to say something. “The important thing, the reason why I called you here, is to reassure Abby that I’m not going anywhere just because I’m now…fabulouslywealthybeyondmywildest dreams!”

“There!” Ziva jumped up. “That last bit! That sounds more like the Tony I’m used to.”

“Tony, I’m glad to hear you say that,” Abby said. “I was telling McGee on the way here, things just won’t be the same if you left. It would be like if Gibbs left. Again. And Ziva. I couldn’t go through that again. I swear. So don’t make me.”

“Yes. It was miserable when Gibbs left us and took off for Mexico,” McGee said. “And as for Ziva – I truly do not want to go through what I did ever again.” McGee looked at Ziva. “So, to be fair. If you don’t want Tony leaving us then you have to promise you’re not either.”

“I’m not, McGee.” Ziva assured him.

“No Israel.” McGee said. “Except for short visits.”

“Of course.” Ziva nodded.

“No more Mossad,” McGee added, frowning at her.

“All behind me, McGee,” Ziva said. Turning her attention back to Tony, she said, “and Gibbs will make life miserable for us if you left, Tony. So you’d better mean it about not leaving! Because if you leave – for _any_ reason – I would have to leave, too. There is no way I could work with Gibbs if you’re not here.”

“What?” Tony gave a huff of laughter. “Why?”

“Because.” Abby blew out a breath, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Because?” Tony prompted.

“Because it’s plain to everyone that you’re special to him,” Abby replied.

“So are you, Abs.” Tony responded, pleased with her reply. Not half as good as if he were to hear it from the man himself but after nine years, he was a fool to even think there was even a slim chance Gibbs swung both ways. He, himself, had gotten so used to hiding it that coming out to his team, much less Gibbs, never crossed his mind. Until this morning.

“But you’re special in a _different_ way, Tony.” Abby insisted.

“If you were a woman, Gibbs would have married you,” Ziva said, causing Tony to do a double-take.

“That would be so cool!” Abby squealed. “Not you being a woman. I mean Gibbs and you. Together.”

“Abby!” Tony’s eyes swung back to her.

“What, Tony?” Abby rounded on him. “Nothing wrong with being gay. Some of my nicest friends are gay –”

“Abs,  I’ve nothing against gays. I’m --” Tony stopped short. “I’m…uhh, glad you all think I’m indispensable to Gibbs but the truth is that he sees us as a unit. He cares about all of us because if one of us were hurt or in trouble, it would affect the entire team. It’s got nothing to do with any of us individually meaning something special to him.”

“Thou dost protest too much, DiNozzo.” Ziva murmured and laughed when Tony swung round to stare at her.

“You’re wrong, Tony,” McGee said. “We all know Gibbs treats Abby differently. If I tried talking to him the way she does or tried half the stuff she does, I’d get my butt kicked so hard it’d be where my head is. Nope. Abs is definitely special to Gibbs and so are you but in a different way. You’re not the son the way Abby’s the daughter…you’re more um…”

“More what?” Tony seriously wanted to know.

“Well, uhh.” McGee struggled to find the words.

“Say it, McGee.” Ziva nudged him with her toe.

“Say what?” Tony asked, exasperated.

“We think…that, uh, Gibbs uh…” McGee stopped and sucked in  deep breath. “Wait. Tony –”

“What? For fuck’s sake – sorry.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Will you just get it out? Whatever it is you people obviously want to say to me. Because I’ve said what I wanted to say. I’m done. It’s your turn.”

“You said you’re doing this vacation thing for us because there’s no one else you’d rather do it for, right?” McGee asked.

“Yeah.”

“So we’re like family to you, right?”

“Not _like_ ,” Tony said. “You are.”

“So we’ve uh…been discussing the uh, change in your behavior and also Gibbs’ and uh, uh –”

“We just wondered if you would revert to your old self.” Abby stepped in. “Now that you’re rich.”

“And we kinda like things the way they have been recently,” McGee added. “You know – quiet. Gibbs not barking and growling like he used to, you not acting up like you used to –”

“And now that I’ve found out you are a rich man,” Ziva piped up, “I, too, am worried. At first I thought you were depressed about something. That you’d fallen in love and it isn’t requited. It isn’t that, is it?”

“What? No,” Tony responded. “You think I’m depressed because I haven’t been acting up?”

“Because you haven’t been crowing about your latest conquests or flirting with every attractive female that walks by.” McGee replied.

“Listen up, guys.” Tony ran his fingers through his hair again. “I admit things haven’t been exactly sunshine and flowers for me in a long time. Since I was a kid, actually. I confess all these years, under the devil-may-care attitude, the designer togs, the superficiality, I needed…more but…” he paused.

“But what, Tony?” Abby’s green eyes were wide with concern. Tony had never - _never_ \- ever talked about himself this way. Never made himself vulnerable. Something was wrong. Something big was happening.

“But deep inside, I needed more.” Tony finished.

“Needed something meaningful.” Abby concluded for him. “Oh, Tony. You will find someone special. You will!”

“Especially now that you’ve stopped chasing bimbos,” Ziva said. “Haven’t you?”

Tony ignored her question. “Anyway, all I really called you guys here for was to assure you my newly-inherited wealth is not going to change anything as far as my job is concerned, or my friendship with you. I just wanted you to know so that when I do want to share some of it, it won’t freak you out again.”

“But Tony, you’re not going to start throwing money around, are you?” McGee said, his brows gathering in a worried frown. “I mean, we wouldn’t want you losing everything. I’ve heard of people winning millions in a lottery and losing it all in a couple of years and it’s back to food stamps.”

“Don’t want that to happen to you, Tony,” Abby said.

“Gibbs would kill you,” Ziva said, flatly.

 


	6. Chapter 6

 

 

 

**Chapter 6**

 

The gang left shortly after, having been satisfied that Tony wasn’t leaving NCIS.

Tony had to bite his tongue when Abby started up about how great it would be if both Gibbs and he were gay and fell for each other.

He hadn’t been entirely honest with them but every time he was on the verge of coming out to his team, something pulled him back from the edge. Uncle Clive’s bequest added another issue for him to deal with and it wasn’t a small one either. A few hundred thousand would have had him doing a happy dance. He’d have ordered that red Ferrari, gotten a new wardrobe and put a down payment on a new apartment.

Four hundred million stopped him in his tracks. He was used to spending money on nice things but managing millions was another thing altogether. Nevertheless, Tony knew he could. Despite his contentious relationship with Senior, he had taken note of investment strategies, their hefty paybacks as well as the dangers. As he grew older, he’d begun to understand his father; begun to see the things he did in a different light. Just as he’d begun to see his team members - not merely as workmates or friends but as family.

Just as he’d begun to allow a small trickle of hope that, perhaps, Gibbs did feel something different for him.

He thought about the gang’s fears that he’d leave NCIS.

Like he’d ever leave Gibbs.

But Gibbs had left him, though. Okay, not just him but the whole team. He’d felt so betrayed and it was only having to hold Abby up that had saved him from descending into a bottomless pit during those days. He’d gone to bed miserable and woken up hopeful, that he’d walk into the bullpen to see that familiar silver-haired head bent over the desk. Each day, he’d leave heavy-hearted and wrap himself with his misery blanket to sleep. He’d wondered how long he could hack it seeing that empty desk day after day.

Then Gibbs came back. Until today Tony couldn’t find the words for how he felt to see that man back in the bullpen. He’d almost broken down and cried with relief.

Alright, so abandonment was a very real fear. One he'd hidden behind the layers and the masks but not anymore. He could relate to the team's fear that they'd lose him just because he was now a rich guy with no need to work, no need to put up with the usual crap of being ruled by red tape, politics and egos. The team didn't know how much of a difference Gibbs made. Not just to Tony's career but to his whole existence. It was why this ambivalence constantly warred within Tony. He'd go to bed on the verge of handing in his resignation and wake up to do whatever Gibbs barked at him to do. Gibbs would say jump and his response would be the cliched, 'how high'.

Yet how truthful was he when he assured the team he wasn't leaving?

Especially, when he was there in Gibbs’ basement late in the night and Gibbs continued as he did week after week – as if Tony wasn’t there except as a loyal employee. Of course, he’d only started his weekly Friday visits about a couple of years ago but nothing had changed in their interaction. Only the premises had. Instead of the bullpen, it was Gibbs' basement; instead of a computer, it was a sander or hand tools for Gibbs and a magazine for him. Or, mostly, he'd just be lost in his own thoughts as he watched Gibbs chipping or sanding away.

One minute he’d say to himself he’d never think of leaving and the next, he’d be berating himself for not wanting to leave when the sensible thing for him was to leave and try to start life afresh without the Gibbs obsession. Like he’d said this morning – Gibbs had gotten him so twisted up he couldn’t think straight. So really, he couldn't blame the team for thinking he would be resigning.

Just a few weeks ago, he’d toyed with the idea of applying with the FBI – but not in DC. If he ever left, he would go so far away from Gibbs it would kill every and any hope that things could change. Self-sabotage? Why do people commit suicide? Not because they want to die but because they have nothing to live for.

Abby had mentioned how great it would be if Gibbs and Tony were gay and their Fearless Leader fell for his senior special agent. But Abby was also the world’s greatest idealist and fairy tale concocter. He, Tony DiNozzo, had no such fantasies – well, alright, one or two – but the reality was that Gibbs was as straight as they came. Tony used to tease McGee with gay jokes only because he himself was in the closet and had taken out his frustrations on his colleague. He hadn’t been proud of his behavior towards the junior agent and the teasing had stopped. Or decreased, to be accurate.

As for Gibbs. The man was WYSIWYG. You saw a straight-shooting man (in more ways than one) and that was what you got. Tony had never, not once, ever been serious about hoping Gibbs was not as straight as he acted nor had he ever believed Gibbs would break Rule 12 even if the heavens thundered and lightning flashed to reveal that Gibbs was, indeed, gay. Or bi.

Tony took his clothes out of the dryer, thinking about Ziva as he took the vertical steam iron out to the living room and turned on the TV. Something was definitely up, he told himself as he ironed his shirt and watched the game at the same time. Could it be things weren't as rosy as they appeared between the spook and the ex-Mossad operative? She’d sounded as if she was not just skeptical Ray would make it home in time but as if something else was bothering her. Weird, considering she’d just announced their engagement.

Tony smiled as he thought of McGee. The practical jokes he’d played on the hapless man, his own silent concern when he’d noticed McGee was losing weight at a pace that was too fast to be healthy. When he’d found out McGee had signed up on a weight-loss program, it had spurred him to get on with an exercise program himself. Now, McGee was looking good, having regained some pounds but it was Tony who was – as Emilio, the bartender at The Bitter Pill said – Eye-yai-yai candy.

Wished Gibbs would think so. Tony hung the ironed shirt on the hanger and started on another. It suddenly occurred to him he could now afford to have his clothes ironed for him. Heck, he could afford that loft he’d seen in the magazine at his hairdresser months ago. What was it called? Real Estate Monthly or something. There was an article on lofts and he’d seen one he’d have wanted if he had the money. He didn’t, then, but he did now. Of course, the loft would be long gone by now but there would be others.

His apartment was spacious enough – big by McGee’s standards – but it was old and the fittings dated. The rent was reasonable and if the view wasn’t anything to shout about, at least the odor from the dumpster in the alley didn’t waft up to his apartment like the one he’d moved into when he first arrived in DC.

He made a mental note to call a real estate agent in the morning.

 

* * * * *

 

“You are right,” Ziva said, as the trio left Tony’s apartment. “There is something not quite right with Tony.”

“You felt it, too, huh,” Abby said. “Let’s go somewhere we can talk. We need to try and find out what’s going with him. His reaction to getting his inheritance is not normal. It wasn’t normal when his uncle died and Tim asked him if he thought his uncle would leave him something in his will. Remember, that Tim?”

“Yup. I do,” McGee responded. “He said he wasn’t expecting anything then he took that trip to London shortly after the funeral. When he returned, I asked him if he was now a rich man.”

“Yes, I remember that,” Ziva said

“And he said his uncle did leave him something but the bulk of his uncle’s fortune went to his cousin.”

“We didn’t ask anymore because Gibbs came in,” Ziva added, recalling that incident. “But it was obvious Tony did not inherit much otherwise he’d be shouting it from the rooftop.”

“Let’s go to Brewhaha and talk,” Abby suggested. “It’s nice and cozy there and I have stuff I want to run by you two.”

 

 

**_ Brewhaha Tea & Coffee _ **

**_ Downtown DC _ **

 

Their orders taken care of, the three settled down in a nest of comfy, overstuffed armchairs in the corner of the room to figure out their very special senior agent.

“The old Tony would have been leaping in the air and whooping like a chimpanzee on speed,” McGee said.

“And that was us thinking Uncle Clive would leave him a  hundred grand or two,” Abby added. “But it’s clearly much more if he can treat the whole team to a week’s holiday and lease a Gulf Stream IV.”

“We also have to remember,” McGee added. “That he kept this from us for over a year. If the money meant such a big deal to Tony, he wouldn’t have been able to keep quiet all this while and – _and_ –” he repeated for emphasis, “he would have quit right there and then but he hasn’t. So whatever reasons he has for his odd behavior, at least I believe what he said about not leaving.”

“But what if he changes his mind?” Abby asked, twisting her skirt between restless fingers.

“Like I said, Abs.” McGee rubbed her back. “Tony won’t. I know it’s very, very strange that he’s being so generous but I’m thinking there’s a lot to Tony we don’t really know.”

“We could ask Gibbs,” Ziva suggested.

“Ask him what?” McGee said. “If we tell him about the Gulf Stream before Tony does, he’s going to flip in front of us. And cancel the trip.”

“Yes, you’re right. I did not think of the second part.” Ziva admitted. “He would not just cancel the stay in Key West, he would cancel the entire leave.”

“Okay, so no asking Gibbs about the Gulf Stream,” Abby said.

“But we can omit the Gulf Stream and just share our concerns about the expense of treating the whole team,” Ziva said. "Because I am concerned about this sudden burst of generosity."

“Gibbs already knows about Tony paying for everyone and he’s still going,” McGee pointed out. “So he must be okay with it.”

Their beverages arrived and silence descended on the trio as they drank their tea and contemplated the inner workings of their colleague.

“I’ve got it!” Abby shot up from her seat.

“What do you got, Abs?” McGee asked.

Ziva laughed. “You sound like Gibbs.” She turned to Abby. “Yes, Abby. What _have_ you got?”

“I know why Tony’s been acting weird the last year and a half!” She sat back down triumphantly. “Tony’s GAY and he’s having a hard time dealing with it.”

Ziva snorted into her chai tea and sputtered.

McGee burst out laughing. “Abby.”

“I’m serious,” Abby retorted. “Tony’s father’s death triggered this ambivalence –”

“Right, Abs.” McGee rolled his eyes. “Next you’re going to say Gibbs is gay, too.”

“No.” Abby replied. “I was going to say Gibbs is bi.”

“Abby!” This time both McGee and Ziva yelled.

“Shush.” Abby gestured with both palms. “Quieten down and listen.” She waited for the two agents as they made exaggerated motions of sitting still and coming to attention. “Right, children. Now listen to Abby carefully and answer the questions.” She paused. “When did Tony start making gay jokes about you, Tim?”

“Since the day I joined,” McGee replied.

“When and how often did he tell you,” Abby looked at Ziva. “that the guys who asked you out were closet gays?”

“Since I joined,” Ziva replied. “And with every guy. Except Ray.”

“Exactly, and hold that last bit.”

“Tim, when did Tony _stop_ teasing you about having gay tendencies?”

“Uh…after…after his dad died,” McGee replied. “About two years ago? You know, I never really noticed that. I knew the gay jokes had ceased but I didn’t really pay much mind. Just relieved. It was getting so annoying.”

“And when did Tony stop making the same jokes about your dates?” Abby asked Ziva but answered it herself. “When you started going out with Ray, right?”

“Yes,” Ziva answered thoughtfully. “And I only started seeing Ray a year ago.”

“Exactly.” Abby snapped her fingers.

“I don't get it. What’s DiNozzo Snr’s death got to do with Tony’s lame gay jokes?” McGee asked.

“Everything!” Abby threw up her hands. “More than everything! Even Uncle Clive’s death! These two losses have impacted our Tony more than we knew at the time. It’s not who you were dating, it’s _when_." She looked at Ziva. "if you’d started seeing Ray _before_ Mr. DiNozzo died, Tony would have accused him of being a closet gay and you being his beard. But something happened to Tony after his father and uncle died. Something that triggered something deep in him and surfaced it. And by the time you started dating Ray, Tony was already starting to confront his own homosexuality. I had No Idea. Until now! Now, we are clued in and we are going to help Tony.”

“Help Tony do what?” McGee asked, totally befuddled now. “Abby, I think you've gone way overboard this time."

“Actually, McGee,” Ziva said. “We agree that Tony hasn’t been himself since his father passed away and his reaction to his inheritance from his uncle – which must be sizable – proves it. So I’m with Abby. Those two deaths affected Tony in some deep way that he has not confided in us about.”

“And you think Tony turned gay as a result of his father’s and uncle’s death?” McGee burst out laughing, unable to stop even when his eyes teared and other customers were turning around to look at their them.

Abby stood abruptly. “Timothy McGee. If you do not stop laughing and give my theory the dignity of your serious attention, I am leaving.”

“Well, I am.” Ziva grabbed her handbag. “I need to go shopping for vacation clothes.”

“Okay, hold on. I’m sorry.” McGee wiped his eyes, still muffling a laugh. “It’s far-fetched, Abby. C’mon. You gotta admit that.”

“I would – if that was what I meant and it’s clearly _not_ what I mean! And you would know if you’d just listened instead of guffawing away like a hyena.”

“Abs. I’m sorry.” McGee pulled her back down. “I’ll zip my trap and listen.”

Ziva sighed. “Go on, Abby. I can wait awhile. The boutique I go to is open until eight but if I can get home in time to do some cleaning, I’d be grateful. So. You think Tony is gay.”

“Okay. Here goes.” Abby took a large gulp of her Moroccan mint tea. “Like I said, I believe Tony’s gay and he’s been struggling with this for a long time. He – unh uh, no interrupting, Tim – Tony’s been in the closet all this while because the police force isn’t exactly rainbow-colored and while NCIS isn’t military, people tend to approach it like it is.”

“How do you –”

“McGee! I said no interrupting.” Abby glared at him. “As I was saying…Tony’s hidden his homosexuality out of habit – and perhaps he’s experienced some anti-gay reactions in the past and decided the closet was safer. And also, if it worked in the police force, it’s even more unlikely he’d take the risk of losing the camaraderie that binds Team Gibbs.”

“Can I speak now?” McGee asked.

“I haven’t finished but yes, a little Q&A is allowed.” Abby smiled at them.

“Even if Tony’s gay – and I’m not convinced he is – what has that to do with his odd behavior? You said his father’s death didn’t trigger his gay-ness or latent homosexuality so you’re saying Tony’s been gay all along. If so, why the odd behavior _now_?”

“Because I believe he wants to come out of the closet,” Abby said. “I suspect he’s met someone. Someone he cares about a lot. In fact, someone he’s in love with and for the first time he’s thinking of coming out so they can be together.” Abby smiled at the two stunned faces. “Think about it. Three people he loves has died  - his mom, his dad and his uncle - and he’s afraid this other person he loves will die, too. Or that _he_ may die - before he’s had a chance to tell that person he loves him. Don’t forget Tony almost lost his life when he contracted the plague and when his car caught fire.”

“Wait. You said ‘him’?” McGee asked.

Abby rolled her eyes. “That’s what’s making Tony so crazy. It’s not a woman, it’s a man.”

“Abs…” McGee sighed. Once Abby got an idea in her head, there was no arguing with her.

After a long while, Ziva asked. “Let’s say you’re right about the gay thing…and the part about Tony having met someone.”

“Guys, I’ve talked to my gay friends, okay?” Abby said. “I was already wondering about Tony some time back and sounded my friends out. Their opinion is that Tony’s in the closet and it was they who told me the guy he’s in love with is Gibbs.”

“Wha-at? No! That’s just...just crazy, Abs," McGee sputtered. "Your friends are just diehard romantics. Like you.”

Ziva shook her head. “Even if your friends are right, it still doesn’t explain the odd behavior. The mature Tony. The serious, generous, sensitive Tony.”

“We could ask Gibbs,” McGee suggested, as Ziva had earlier.

“No!” Both Abby and Ziva fairly yelled simultaneously, causing McGee to duck for cover.

“Just yanking your chain. Geez.” McGee chuckled.

“Gibbs will kill us,” Ziva told him.

“You’re telling me,” McGee muttered.

“Yes, because Gibbs is gay, too!” Abby said and flopped back on her armchair.

“That’s it.” McGee got up. “I’m leaving.”

“Sit.” Abby pointed to his chair.

“You’re nuts, Abs,” McGee muttered but he sat back down.

 Abby’s mouth turned down but she conceded, inwardly, that throwing that bit about Gibbs being gay might be a tad too much without elaboration. “There’s more, okay? It’s not just my friends who told me,” she said. “I got Tony to go out one night a week after his dad’s funeral. You remember how subdued he was back then?”

Ziva and McGee nodded.

“Hardly said a word the first few days,” McGee said. “Even when Gibbs asked if he was okay. Didn’t say much when Gibbs asked for updates on an investigation either.”

“It was McGee and I who did most of the talking,” Ziva added.

“I knew things were bad,” McGee continued, “when I caught Gibbs glancing at Tony’s corner every now and then, like he was checking on him every hour on the hour but I just assumed Gibbs was noticing Tony’s uncharacteristic behavior and was concerned like we were...still are. It never, _ever_ , entered my head it could be anything else.”

“Yeah, well.” Abby sat forward a bit more. “Tony and I talked some over dinner. Then we went back to my place and talked some more. We’d been drinking a bit and uh, I guess Tony was more inclined to talk then.”

“You mean you got Tony drunk to dig info out of him,” Ziva said. "Basic interrogation tactic."

“Not that drunk,” Abby responded. “Just enough so he wouldn’t…couldn’t deflect my questions.”

“So what did you find out?” McGee asked.

“That he loved it and hated it in boarding school. And when I asked, he explained it was because it was all boys and all male teachers.”

“Oh no,” McGee muttered. “Tony was sexually abused by a male teacher?”

“Happens all the time,” Ziva said. “Poor Tony.”

“Maybe he liked it,” McGee suggested and received a whack on the arm from Abby.

“No!” Abby glared at him. “That’s not what happened. He didn’t come right out and say it but I think Tony found out he was attracted to boys then. He mentioned the wrestling games and how awkward he found it, how scared he was and there was a lot of babbling I couldn’t get…BUT…I’m pretty sure that was what he was trying to tell me – that he found out he was gay back in boarding school.”

“And?” Ziva asked. “How does that explain his change of behavior?”

“Because he learnt to hide it. He’s been hiding all his life. He told me he saw how the boys bullied and harassed Buttercup.”

“Buttercup?” both Ziva and McGee asked.

“This blonde kid that bunked in the bed next to Tony,” Abby replied. “Tony said the kid was pretty like a girl and the boys caught him plucking a buttercup during break time. They nicknamed him Buttercup after that, in addition to some other homophobic names and making his life hell. Tony said Buttercup killed himself. He was only thirteen.”

“Oh God.” McGee sucked in a breath. “What happened to Tony? Did the other boys think he was gay, too?”

“Tony has never displayed a single effeminate bone in his body,” Ziva remarked. “Unless, he was very different as a boy.”

“I did ask him whether the boys called him ‘pretty’, too," Abby said. "He said one or two did but he busted their noses, got disciplined and that was that. No one bothered him after that.”

“Well, then.” McGee sat back. “He’s not gay. Proved it to them.”

“Then he told me about the military academy at Rhode Island,” Abby continued. “He said it was far worse yet far better. And pretty boys, he said. ‘There were a lot of them and ‘they liked me’', he said. I asked if he meant they were gay and he said some secrets were necessary for survival then he passed out on my couch. Oh, he also said, ‘I’m telling you because I know you’d never hurt me’.” Abby stared back at her two colleagues. “What?”

“Abby,” McGee said. “That still doesn’t prove that Tony’s gay. He’s just told you what it was like in boarding school and the military academy.”

“McGee,” Ziva cut in. “I have to agree with Abby. It does sound like Tony was trying to tell her he’s gay. That’s why he shared some of his childhood background and then about the academy. Tony would have realized his attraction to boys when he was in boarding school and lived in fear that it would be detected. But in the academy, he saw how one’s preference for the same gender could be hidden successfully and his parting shot to Abby tells us everything!”

McGee looked from one to the other. “Must be a girl thing,” He muttered. “Look, you’re not going to tell Gibbs you think Tony’s gay, are you? Or Tony? Because if you are, _don’t_ mention my name. I don’t want my fingers super-glued to my keyboard and I don't even want to think what Gibbs would do to me.”

“No, Timmy.” Abby punched him on the arm playfully. “We’re not going to breathe a word. You heard what I said – Tony told me only because he knows I wouldn’t hurt him. And I told you because I know neither of you would hurt him. Tim, we’ve gotta find a way to get him to trust all of us so he doesn’t have to hide anymore. So we can have the real Tony DiNozzo.”

“No.” McGee shook his head. “Leave it alone, Abby.”

“Look, we may get our chance in Key West,” Abby persisted. “It’s one of the gay-friendliest places in the country and there’s lots of gays-only and gay-friendly bars. Granted there’s less of the former these days but only because the tourists visiting are themselves gay-friendly so the previously gays-only establishments have started to accept non-gay clientele.”

“Sounds reasonable,” Ziva said. “Why throw away extra business when it’s no longer necessary to draw the protective boundaries.”

“So…” Abby’s excitement grew. “We’re going to make Tony realize that we are not homophobic in the least!”

“Tony knows you’re not and I am _not_ dancing with another guy just to make Tony comfortable!” McGee declared emphatically.

“Why not? I’d dance with Ziva,” Abby countered.

“Yes, in fact we’ve danced together before,” Ziva said.

“That’s different,” McGee snapped. “Besides, if you’re wrong about Tony, do you know what he’d do to me? Huh? What if this – this…weird behavior of his is just some temporary lapse and he’s going to be back to his old juvenile self when we come back? What if this behavior of his is just due to the stress of the last six months? Hell, Abs, even Vance noted the state the team’s in.” He paused for breath. “Which makes me wonder what’s wrong with Gibbs. And _don’t_!” He held up a hand to Abby’s face. “Don’t tell me about Gibbs being gay because one, it’s crap and two, even if you’re right, I can’t deal with two members of my team being gay. Not today, okay?”

Abby deflated. For a few moments, no one said anything. Then McGee reached for Abby’s hand. “Abs, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I’m not homophobic and I wasn’t dismissing your suspicions or the fact that you’re worried about Tony. I’m sorry I made it sound that way.”

Abby remained silent, hurt by McGee’s reaction. She’d expected him to, at least, give her suspicions serious thought. Not dismiss them outright without analyzing what information they had first. It wasn’t as if she had no data! After all, she was the best in her field. She knew that but it only mattered because Gibbs was proud of her and if Gibbs never doubted her, why should the man she was going to marry?

“I have to go.” Ziva stood. “I’ll get the bill.” She patted McGee on the shoulder as she moved past him, then stopped. Leaning down, she whispered in his ear, “Apologize, with a bit of groveling thrown in, then tell her she’s right because she is.” Then loud enough for Abby to hear, added, “And if that doesn’t work, tell her you’ll do whatever she asks because you love Tony, too, and you don’t want to see Tony hand in his resignation because one good man stood by and did _nothing_.”

“Wha—! Ziva!” McGee scrambled out of his seat but Ziva was already walking off and giving them a casual wave over her shoulder.

“Well, Timmy?” Abby smiled menacingly at him.

 


	7. Chapter 7

 

 

**Chapter 7**

 

 

_**Early Monday Morning;** _

_**Abby's Lab** _

__

"Hey, Tony!" Abby greeted him brightly. " You're very early." She saw what he was carrying. "And bearing gifts, too."

Tony passed her the giant Caf-Pow.

"Thank you!" Abby took a long suck. "Hey, Ziva called just a minute ago looking for you."

Tony frowned, taking out his cell phone. Damn. Dead battery. He'd better charge up before Gibbs arrived. "What did she want?"

"She said something about running into your redhead on the way to work."

"So?"

"So guess what? She asked if you wanted to trade."

"Trade? Trade what?"

"You arrange a date with Gibbs for her and she'll hook you up with Jessica Alba."

"Ziva wants a date with Gibbs?" Tony frowned, puzzled by that then looked at Abby, "Ziva knows Jessica Alba?"

"No, silly. Your redhead. Dani." Abby grinned. "Anyway, Ziva told her she'd pass on the message. When Ziva couldn't reach you, she called me to ask if you were here with me."

"She should be in soon. I'll go see her." Tony turned to go.

"What about Dani?" Abby asked.

"What about her? Redheads don't do it for me. Besides, she wants Gibbs, like she said. She'll have more luck there since redheads are his weakness.

"Not anymore." Tony and Abby whirled round, startled.

"Gibbs!" Abby greeted him.

"'Morning, boss." Tony smiled. "Uh, Abby. I'll come back later."

"You're in early, DiNozzo." Gibbs' remark had Tony halting on his way out.

"Yeah, had a good sleep last night. Ready to start the week, short as it is." Tony turned around and walked out, feeling Gibbs' stare burning a hole in his back.

Gibbs turned back to Abby. "You got anything back from the Claymore case?"

"Should have something later today. I had to request for the tissue samples from Norfolk and they should get here later this morning. I'll call you once I have something."

"Okay."

"You okay, Gibbs?" Abby asked. "You look...preoccupied."

"Nope. Just came down to pass you your morning Caf-Pow…but I see someone already beat me to it."

"Aw, Gibbs. Between you and Tony, I'm totally spoiled." She leaned in and kissed Gibbs lightly on the cheek. "And totally loving it." She quickly rubbed away her lipstick smear.

Gibbs chuckled as he left her lab. His desk phone buzzed just as he got back to the bullpen. "Yeah, Gibbs. Sure. I'll be there. What time? Okay."

"Case, boss?" Tony asked, looking across the squad room.

"No," Gibbs replied and powered up his PC. Vance had just called to ask him over to dinner tonight. Gibbs hadn't been to the Vance home for dinner in several months due to their caseload so he'd readily agreed. Jackie was a fine cook and he liked her immensely, primarily because she made sure her husband didn't bring his big boss attitude back home.

Ziva and McGee arrived at the same time, hurrying to their desks when they saw that both Gibbs and Tony were already at theirs.

"'morning, boss," McGee said, handing Gibbs a coffee and a bagel-and-cream cheese. "I came in with Abby but stopped to buy breakfast for us."

"'morning, McGee. Thanks." Gibbs took the bagel out and bit into it.

Tony frowned at the scene then looked at Ziva who shrugged in response.

"Here's yours, Tony." McGee put a cup of coffee with hazelnut syrup and a muffin with butter and maple syrup on Tony's desk.

Tony went over to McGee when the latter sat back down at his desk. "Why are you buying the boss breakfast and why is he being so polite?" Tony hissed in McGee's ear as they pretended to study McGee's monitor screen.

"Because…it's only two…three days before our vacation and I'm in a salubrious state of mind. So's the boss, obviously," McGee hissed back.

With no cases being called in, the morning rolled on, leaving the agents a little bored but with time to do some personal reflecting while they worked through the cold cases Gibbs had assigned to each of them.

Apart from glancing up now and then from the documents he was perusing, Gibbs left them alone, a mild contentment spreading through him. That is, until he looked up again and saw Tony standing and stretching. The material of his shirt stretched tightly across those broad, muscular shoulders and Gibbs could see the biceps bulging slightly under the sleeves. The man had buffed up, for sure. He wondered how he was going to survive five days in Key West with a barely-clothed DiNozzo.

  
  
  
**Monday Night;**

**Director Vance's Residence**   
  


"Jackie, that was a wonderful dinner. As always." Gibbs leaned back on his chair and patted his still-flat belly. "Good thing Hq has a gym or I'd never be able to keep my satisfaction from showing."

"You are welcome, Jethro." Jackie smiled. "And the only thing showing on you is that killer smile and those baby blues though, if I can speak from imagination, I'd say you're packing a set of killer-abs under those Hanes, too. Now, why don't you two gentlemen head on to the study. I'll bring dessert and coffee soon as the kids load up the dishwasher."

"I'll help." Gibbs stood and started to take the plates.

"Oh no, you don't." Jackie took the plates off him.

Vance gave his wife a playful smack on her butt. "Speak from imagination, huh? Well, rein it in, woman. I'll give him the killer-smile and baby blues but damn if I gonna hand him the abs, too. Nuthin' wrong with mine and whatever else I got under my –"

"Shush, honey. Kids." Jackie rolled her eyes towards the children who were giggling. "Go on, Gibbs." Jackie shooed the two men out. "This ain't no free dinner but –"

"Mom!" The two kids yelled. "You used a double negative!" They broke up giggling.

Jackie eyeballed her a children but twirled and point her finger at her husband and Gibbs. "Out, you two. Like I said, Gibbs, not a free dinner tonight so go on. I'll bring coffee and dessert in."

Gibbs looked at Vance, wondering what the price of dinner was.

"Cognac?" Vance asked as he moved to the drinks trolley. Gibbs sank down into the fat buttery-soft leather armchair angled next to Vance's. "Yeah. Thanks."

"Your team looking forward to the break?" Vance asked.

"Yeah, why not? We're heading down to Key West."

Vance nodded. "So everything alright with you and the team?" He asked, handing Gibbs the snifter.

"Any reason why anything shouldn't be?"

"Just a friend here, Gibbs, asking a friendly question."

Gibbs gave a grunt. "What's up, Leon?"

The director picked up the file on the side table next to him, withdrew a sheet of paper and gave it to Gibbs who frowned at it as he drew out his glasses.

He saw Tony's name before he even noted what the form was. Employee Financial Disclosure. After 9/11, the then Director had instituted the regulation requiring all employees of the agency to declare any influx of funds exceeding 100,000 thousand dollars per annum to the employee's bank account no matter what the source. It was classified info, however, so not available to anyone unless the director gave approval. Gibbs knew all that, just as he knew it was for national security purposes and connected to money-laundering and other illegal movement of funds by terrorists.

His eyes scanned down the form until it came to the string of figures. "Damn," Gibbs muttered and took a swallow of the cognac.

Vance's brow quirked up. "I take it you didn't know."

"Oh, I knew. Just not the actual amount." Gibbs stood and started pacing.

"Sit down," Vance told him. "You're giving me indigestion. Relax a bit and indulge in some after-dinner chitchat."

Gibbs chuckled softly. "Yeah. Been awhile since I…chitchatted…with anyone. Ya think it'll help the lines around my eyes?"

"Maybe." Vance laughed. "Gotta say my advice about taking a vacation worked. Your lines have diminished somewhat. Skin looks more luminous."

Gibbs rolled his eyes. "Luminous." He laughed. "I'm going to suggest to Jackie that she whisk you away for one so she'll come back with luminous skin."

"Angling for a permanent place at our dinner table, are you?" Vance crossed his legs at the ankle, sinking in lower in his chair.

Gibbs wondered when the 'chitchat' would begin.

"Should I be expecting a resignation letter any day now?"

 _And here it comes_. Gibbs shrugged. "He says no."

"You believe him?"

Gibbs waited a beat. "Yeah."

"Don't take this the wrong way even though I'm speaking to you as a friend, not as your director."

Gibbs's blue eyes narrowed. "We both worked hard to get here, _friend_. Didn't come naturally. So feel free to speak your mind."

Vance nodded. "I know my being in this chair has put a crimp in our friendship at times and if there ever was a moment I had to set the latter aside, believe me, I imagined Jackie's voice in my head warning me that if I screw up, I'm dead meat." He paused and laughed softly.

Gibbs waited, taking sips from the XO in the crystal tumbler. A soft knock sounded and the door opened with Jackie bringing in a tray. Gibbs got up to take it from her.

"Croissant butter pudding," Jackie announced with a flourish. "Served with Irish Whiskey vanilla cream sauce. Coffee, just the way you like it, Gibbs."

"You spoil me, Jackie." Gibbs gave her a kiss on the cheek.

"Thank you, sweetheart." Vance smiled. " _Two_ plates. You mean I'm allowed to have some?"

"You've been a good boy so I'm going easy on you tonight. Gibbs, make sure he has only one serving. He's kept to his low-sugar diet and I don't want a relapse. And you –" Jackie looked at her husband. "You go easy on Gibbs _or else_."

The door closed quietly behind Jackie and Vance sighed as he scooped the pudding into a bowl for Gibbs. "Every time I walk through my front door and I hear her voice, see her smile…I tell myself I'm the luckiest sonofabitch on this planet."

Gibbs smiled. "Couldn't agree with you more, Leon. Though what she sees in you, I couldn't begin to guess."

Vance sighed contentedly. "I may occupy the big chair at work but there's no question who's in charge the minute I step inside my front door. You don't know how good it feels to be able to come home and relinquish all control."

Gibbs snorted. "You would be thinking differently if you'd married any of my ex-wives."

They sat for a while drinking and eating their dessert in companionable silence. Their interactions at work was, more often than not, fractious and if one weren't in-the-know (as Jackie was), one would be led to think the director and his head of MCRT didn't get along at all. The truth of the matter was, aside from Mike Franks, who was, these days, 'unavailable except in dire emergencies' – his words – Tobias Fornell and Leon Vance were Gibbs' closest friends. Three close friends Gibbs could trust with his life. And vice versa. No wonder they didn't need acquaintances. As for Ducky, being more than two decades older, the ME was more like a second father.

Gibbs had hoped Vance would take Director Morrow's chair when the latter left. When Jenny Shepard was made Morrow's successor instead, he was not only disappointed, he had been dismayed. Just as he was when Vance had disassembled his team without so much as a whisper of warning.

He'd thought their friendship ended that day because nobody – _nobody_ – messed with his team, and especially, with Tony.

 _Easy, Gunny._ Gibbs wondered how long more he had before his slip started showing. The urge to do something, just to see if there was even a flicker of interest in DiNozzo, was becoming more irresistible, especially since he knew the man was gay.

Hot on the heels of that thought came the inevitable questions – who was DiNozzo fucking? Did he bring them home? Did he stay over at his lover's, fucking through the night? Did he let any stay over? Eat breakfast together?

Gibbs shook off those forbidden thoughts. That was why he stayed away, why he kept up the cool attitude at work and even outside.

As for Vance, he had come through. That day after his team had been pulled from him, Vance had told Gibbs to meet him at his home after work as they needed to talk.

Damn right, they needed to, though Gibbs had thought a change of venue would have been better. He didn't want Jackie to see him deck her husband in their foyer.

Vance had read him in concerning the mole they needed to identify and neutralize. When Vance had told Gibbs what was going down, even SecNav had not been told because Vance wanted everyone's reaction to feel real. It was Vance's idea and he was playing it his way. However, after the initial shock had sunk in and the news rippled through the agency that Leroy Jethro Gibbs' team had been dismantled and replaced, Vance had brought him home and put him on the need-to-know.

Gibbs had learnt not to underestimate Vance from that day on. Their history went way back to when Gibbs was just a probie and Vance already a seasoned operative but that day, Gibbs had learnt something – give his friend the benefit of the doubt the next time. That trust had never been compromised so whatever it was Leon had called him over tonight for, Gibbs knew it would be justifiable. Didn't mean it would be easy, though.

"So, going to Key West for the weekend, huh?" Vance said, pushing his dessert plate away.

"Looks like," Gibbs replied. He took a swallow of the coffee. "Great coffee, as always." He set his mug down. It had taken a few requests before Jackie consented to serve him his coffee in a large mug rather than her dainty fine china.

Vance handed Gibbs a document and tossed him a pen. "Sign it. Then we can have the little after-dinner chat."

Gibbs put on his glasses again. After a moment, he took them off. "A bit premature, isn't it, Leon? The way I see it, retirement is still seven years away."

"But you don't object when the time comes?"

"Nope. Not if he wants it."

"Then sign it. If he's no longer at NCIS by then, it's moot."

Gibbs gave his friend and director a glance then signed and dated his recommendation to promote Tony DiNozzo to head the MCRT upon Gibbs' mandatory retirement in seven years' time. Ten, if the agency decided to keep him on longer. "Okay. Done." He handed the form and pen back to Vance. "Let's get on with the 'chitchat'."

Leon Vance took out a toothpick, looked at it then stuck it back in the box and pocketed it. "The Dragon-lady might pop her head back in," He grumbled.

Gibbs chuckled. "If I ever need to blackmail you, I know what to do – send Jackie a vid of you in your office chewing away."

"Do that and I'll tell DiNozzo you pulled that promotion for him to head his own team in Singapore."

Gibbs' head jerked up. "I pulled that because he's wasted in that city. Nothing happens there. He'd be bored stiff."

"It was a good career step upwards. DiNozzo would have been deputy head of one of the five offices in Singapore - our largest in Asia in terms of AOR. Would have stood him in good stead."

"My reason still stands." Gibbs countered. "Nothing happens there. That country has a ridiculously low crime-rate, there's been near zero incidents involving _any_ military personnel except their own. What the hell would he do there except chase after the local bimbos?"

"And that's the real reason, isn't it? 'If I can't have you, I don't want anyone else to'? You can't let him out of your sight even though you were the one that came up with the rule about not dating co-workers."

Gibbs stilled, not looking at Vance. The director's words hit Gibbs in the gut even though he'd warned himself it would come one day. The silence stretched on. For the first time in his life, Gibbs didn't know what he ought to say next. His sexual preference was something he hadn't shared with even his close friends. And wasn't planning to.

Vance sat forward, closer to Gibbs and said, quietly. "You've been carrying this torch long enough, Gibbs. I don't know since when but I'd guess it was from the day you first laid eyes on him at Baltimore PD. I know why you brought him here. I know DiNozzo's gay." Gibbs looked at him, eyes wide with surprise. "Told you my chair's big." Vance chuckled. "Told you before my reach is a long and wide one, too.

"I saw through DiNozzo's act from the day I walked in to investigate Shepard's murder. You and I were friends way before DiNozzo came on the scene and just one day watching the both of you interact told me everything I needed to know when I stepped into Shepard's shoes."

"And what, exactly, is 'everything'?" Gibbs asked, finally speaking.

"These days? That DiNozzo's your raison d'être for coming in to work, for living, perhaps." No reaction from Gibbs so Vance added, "As to what you are to DiNozzo, that _you_ are going to have to find out."

"You telling me your "reach" doesn't go that far?" Gibbs taunted.

"I'm telling you I'm not going to do all your work for you. He's _your_ boy not mine. You already know he's gay – yeah, I know you know so stop glaring at me. You know he's been hiding it rather well. You want to know if he feels the same about you as you do him, go find out."

"You never said anything," Gibbs said, choosing silent acknowledgment over denial.

"Never needed to."

"So why now?"

"Because DiNozzo's not the same man he was when you brought him back with you from Baltimore. He's not even the same man two years ago. Hell, Gibbs. He's not even the man he's made everyone think he is! Are you telling me you never suspected?"

"I'm not sure what, exactly, you're referring to but if you believe DiNozzo's lying about himself all along, why would you want him promoted to deputy head of our largest office in PACOM?"

"Not the entire Singapore field office," Vance said. "Just the Navy Region Center at Changi."

"That _is_ the entire Singapore field office, Leon!" Gibbs snapped."

"Okay," Vance conceded that. "But let's not get side-tracked. What are you going to do about the two of you?"

"What 'two of us'?" Gibbs asked. "There's no 'two of us'! What the heck is this about, Leon?"

"Down, boy." Vance chuckled. "Gibbs, I've known you swung both ways for years. No, hear me out. I don't give a fuck, Gibbs. I never talked to you about it back then because there wasn't a need to. You never brought it up and that was fine by me because I sure as hell don't volunteer every bit of information about myself." He paused a beat. "Woulda been dead if I did."

"Like I asked, why now?"

"There was no DiNozzo in your life before. Mike and I may have mentioned your sexual orientation or –"

"Mike!"

"Yeah, Mike Franks. But we weren't exactly sober at the time and it was just a passing remark. It was a long time ago and after I got stationed back here permanently, I had better things to do than talk about who was sucking your cock. Whoa! –" Vance held up his hand. "I'm not talking about DiNozzo so sit back down, for god's sake, Gibbs."

"Answer the question, Leon."

"I don't want to lose him," Vance said simply. "Or you."

"I told you. He's not going anywhere."

"That was before he inherited four hundred over million, Gibbs. That's crazy money. No telling what he'd do if he were to wake up one day, convinced that you're never going to feel the same way about him as he does for you." Vance took out the toothpick and stuck it in his mouth after giving the door a quick glance. "And you want to know how I know DiNozzo's gay?" 

"Certainly not going to stop you if you want to volunteer _that_ piece of intel." Gibbs took a large swallow of coffee.

"No need to go into the details but we knew about DiNozzo when you brought him over from Baltimore. NCIS, as you know, does not have a DADT policy. Never did. In fact, we pride ourselves on being the most LGBT-friendly of the federal agencies. Do you know twenty percent of this office is either gay, lesbian or bi?"

Gibbs rolled his eyes at his friend. "Like I have time to care?"

"As far as I saw it, I didn't have an issue to deal with until I began to see that your _non_ -relationship could cause problems in the long run."

"You thought my _not_ being involved with my male senior special agent could be problematic?" Gibbs gave a loud huff.

"Gibbs, not everyone thinks your Rule 12 is that great an idea."

"I take it you don't."

"No, I don't, which is why NCIS doesn't have a rule against fraternization. People make less errors of judgment when they don't have to hide or lie. Of course, it takes a while for Marines and cops to get used to that."

"It's a good rule!"

"It's a reaction to Shepard!" Vance shot back. "Oh yeah, we know about that, too."

"And just who does "we" constitute?"

"Tom, me, SecNav. And Mike. Tom spoke to Mike about it but before Mike could pull you aside, Shepard had already dumped you and you know Mike. He hates getting tangled up in personal stuff."

"Unlike some people," Gibbs muttered.

"Hey, if Rule 12 is so sacrosanct, why aren't you turning the hose on Ms Sciuto and McGee?" Vance challenged. "You're not the only one with eyes at the back of his head, Gibbs. And like I said – a reaction to Shepard. She's gone, Gibbs. Quit carrying that ghost around."

"So what is it, exactly, you want from me?" Gibbs asked, still puzzled as to the director's intent."

"As a friend, I'm curious whether you plan to go get your boy –"

"He's not a boy! He's thirty-eight, Leon."

Vance inclined his head. "Get your man then." He amended. "As your friend, I'm curious to know what you plan to do now that you know I'm all for it."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Jackie and I think you need someone. Someone to come home to, not walk in the front door then descend to your basement."

Gibbs gave a bark of laughter. "You been talking to Fornell."

"Haven't spoken to him in months. Why?" Vance frowned. Then it cleared and he chuckled. "He's been on your case, too, huh?"

Gibbs glared again but couldn't suppress the small smile.

"But coming back to DiNozzo, as your director I am making known to you my concern that DiNozzo's sudden influx of cash will result in his resignation."

"How many times do I have to tell you he's not going anywhere?" Gibbs' voice had risen slightly, much as he tried to rein in his irritation. He wasn't so much as annoyed with Vance as terrified that his friend might be right. He couldn't honestly say he hadn't thought about the possibility that Tony could change his mind once the reality of his financial status had sunk in. Vance, again, had the knack for pulling words out of his mouth.

"You're telling me you never thought that once DiNozzo's had a few days for reality to sink in, he won't start asking himself what the hell there is here for him? You think he won't start asking himself why, after nine years, he hasn't been offered his own team, Rota notwithstanding? Why he hasn't been recommended by you for a promotion? If he didn't ask those questions then he isn't half the man I know him to be.

"You're not the only one who's been watching him, Gibbs. You're the one who's been submitting performance reviews for him that are higher than anyone else who's ever worked under you but _I'm_ the one who's been reading them – all the way back from the first year he joined. And SecNav. He's got a copy of every appraisal you've given DiNozzo."

"SecNav? Why?"

Vance blew out a breath of exasperation. "You need to go read your performance reviews on DiNozzo, Gibbs. SecNav had asked me to keep an eye on DiNozzo's suitability to be groomed for deputy director when I retire and I don't need to tell you what the next step is." He saw the stunned look on Gibbs' face but carried on. "DiNozzo's got everything it takes to occupy this chair one day. SecNav also thinks he'll be able to get us better press than I do, can you believe that?"

"He's too young, Leon," Gibbs said, recovering quickly. "He's good. He's got potential but he's only in his 30s. Okay, late thirties."

"Are you hearing yourself? You sound like a father being asked if his sixteen year-old daughter can go out on a date." Vance laughed then sobered up. "That's why SecNav wants to start him early. So I'm giving you a heads-up – as a friend. Next year I'm going to be announcing DiNozzo as my deputy-in-training even though officially he will still be under your team leadership. He'll make deputy by the time he's in his forties. Director by fifty."

"Why?" Gibbs asked. "Why is DiNozzo SecNav's blue-eyed boy? Or green, as the case may be? There are other excellent agents. D'Almeida in Quantico would be a more obvious choice. So would Wellesley in Miami. DiNozzo's proven himself, I give him that, but he lacks the experience you and I have to justify SecNav's interest." Gibbs stopped then cocked his head. "There's more, isn't there?"

Vance gave a nod. "DiNozzo's career history with the various PDs? The two-year limit before he skips, giving the impression he's a quitter? All faked."

To say this little after-dinner chitchat was more than he thought it would be was grossly understating it. Gibbs, who considered himself unflappable, could only stare at his friend. Angry, stunned, proud, worried, impressed…a morass of mixed emotions coursed through him.

"DiNozzo had been put in the police force undercover in Peoria, Philly and Baltimore," Vance continued. "During those six years, he was following a trail of money-laundering and corruption involving a network of dirty cops and rogue agents from the DEA. That's right, Gibbs. Your boy started young."

That he didn't know all this didn't sit well with Gibbs even if it gave him a measure of comfort that it meant Tony's cover was secure all this while. "What was he, really? DEA?"

"No." Vance poured himself another cup and topped up Gibbs' mug. "DiNozzo was part of a covert team comprising operatives from various agencies which ran investigations and assignments independently. They went undercover, handled insertion and extraction of intel and reported the status of major ops being run to an oversight committee. When we needed to send someone in because something was rotting, DiNozzo and his team were the ones to handle it. When you met him in Baltimore, he had just closed the loop on the op he and his team had been running and was about to ship out. It came as a surprise to the powers-that-be –"

"That include you? 'powers-that-be'?" Gibbs asked, despite knowing the answer.

"It was a surprise to _us,"_ Vance amended, "when he announced that he was taking up your offer instead. I thought it was a wrong move but SecNav thought differently. Staked his claim early, that wily old fox. Even made a bet during our weekly poker game, that DiNozzo would not only make the distance but would be occupying the deputy chair by the time _you_ retired. This Thanksgiving weekend marks the ninth year of DiNozzo's service with this agency. SecNav will win the pot that's been growing since Day One because I'm going to fold and so are the others. Vance leaned back with a sigh and a smile. "Now that I've had my say, feel free to give your two cents."

"What the _hell_ do you want me to say?" Gibbs growled. "You kept all this from me. I'm his team leader. I'm _supposed_ to know all this because DiNozzo's not undercover anymore." He paused. "Is he?"

Vance chuckled, shaking his head. "No, he's for real this time. Bona fide NCIS special agent. Your boy's a whizzkid, Gibbs. Been undercover from the day he graduated university. Earned his crim psych degree while working the undercover ops. Takes quite a guy to manage that. McGee might be your tech expert but let me say I'd pick DiNozzo to have my six over any of our agents any time. Present company excepted."

"Why wasn't I told all this when I hired him? About the undercover work history? I spoke to Tom before I offered DiNozzo the job because I didn't want a complaint made that NCIS was poaching while on a joint-op with a local PD and that kind of crap. Tom gave me the go-ahead."

"Need to know, Gibbs, and you didn't. As I explained, DiNozzo's career moves had been closely monitored. Your working partnership with DiNozzo in Baltimore was also noted and yes, there was already some talk about bringing him over to NCIS when his assignment at Baltimore PD was over. If you hadn't done us a favor by bringing him home so-to-speak, he would have turned up after his two-week vacation."

"DiNozzo knew he was joining NCIS?"

"No. He never knew where he was going until it was already decided. Peoria, Philly, Baltimore. All part of his undercover ops. Even when he was running the investigation into the three police departments, it could have been any of his other team members that got assigned. So, as far as all of us were concerned, and that still stands, you made him a bona fide offer and he accepted. I repeat, Gibbs. DiNozzo didn't know and now, he knows less than you do. SecNav wants you to keep it that way. Of course, that will change but when we have our little talk with him depends on your report once you return from Key West."

"Report? I'm on vacation."

"Yes, but you do have an assignment of sorts."

"I'll come back that in a minute. What about Dan Holloway?" Gibbs asked, remembering his friend. "Did he know DiNozzo was not a cop?"

"No," Vance replied. "No one knew except those directly involved. And now, you. Not all the cases have been declassified, Gibbs, so don't go asking DiNozzo."

Gibbs shook his head, not sure yet whether he was thoroughly pissed or pleased. "SecNav –"

"— should've seen the smirk on his face when Tom told him you'd returned to DC with DiNozzo in tow." Vance sat forward. "After that, it was just sitting back and observing. And now that you know all this, I'm asking again why haven't you recommended DiNozzo for a team lead? You know he deserves it! You didn't just scuttle the Singapore one, you rejected the Hawaii field office position, too. DiNozzo was to have formed and led the Hawaii counterpart to MCRT. Tell me if I'm right, Gibbs. Did you deliberately obstruct DiNozzo's promotion?"

It took Gibbs several minutes before he spoke. "You should have asked me these questions when we were in your office, Leon. Not here in your study at home."

"I know and I wanted it here. _In my home. In my study_. So I could ask the questions only a close friend could ask – and have the right to an honest answer. And answers to questions close friends _don't_ have to ask."

Gibbs took a deep breath then looked Vance in the eye. "Yes. I did stand in the way. I'm not proud of it, Leon, and I won't do it again, now that I know SecNav's had his beady eye on DiNozzo." He pointed to the form. I've signed that and you'll have my submission for early retirement in the morning."

"Dammit, Gibbs! That's not what I want!"

"Then what _do_ you want, Leon?" Gibbs was genuinely perplexed. "You've told me you know about my sexual orientation, you know about my attraction to DiNozzo – and no, I did not hire him because of that –"

"Never said you did," Vance interjected.

"You asked if I obstructed the promotion of a good – no, _excellent_ \- senior special agent and I just admitted I did. You made me sign that form which effectively replaced me with him and you've told me both of us have been monitored by SecNav all this while. What the _hell_ am I supposed to think!"

Vance got up and started pacing. "Help me out, Gibbs. I screw this up and Jackie's going have my balls."

"Jackie?" This was getting more confusing by the minute.

"Yes. My wife thinks I ought to come right out and invite you and DiNozzo over for dinner – as a couple."

"Leon –" Gibbs floundered. _What_ was going on?

"I know!" Vance yelled. "Now you know why I'm doing such a bad job of this. Maybe it's a girl thing, you know. They know how to approach these delicate subjects."

"Me? Delicate?"

"You know what I mean! So. What is it? Are you and DiNozzo involved?"

Gibbs opened his mouth to reply but didn't know what to say at the last moment. There were too many things he needed to process and he needed some time. _Alone_.

"Well?" Vance asked. "Yes or no? It'd be good if it was a yes."

"Why?"

"Because you're the fly in SecNav's soup, Gibbs. He thinks DiNozzo will throw in the towel because you've been standing in his way too much and too long."

"Then why didn't he say anything?"

Vance sighed. DiNozzo's not the only valuable agent to Jarvis. He's being greedy. He wants both of you. So, tell me the answer to my question is a yes."

"Wish I could but no, DiNozzo and I are not involved. Never been," Gibbs replied. "If he left, you'd win the bet, you realize that?"

"If he leaves after I've told you what I just did tonight, _I'll_ be told to leave! I happen to like that chair, Gibbs."

"I know." Gibbs gave him that half-smile.

"Well?" Vance asked. "He's a good man, Gibbs." Vance's voice softened considerably. "He doesn't know about the plans for his career path. _Don't_ scuttle this one, Gibbs. I have it on good orders to reassign all of you a second time if you don't play ball."

Gibbs gave him the death glare. "Let's roll this back a little. Back to when I said I already signed the form." Gibbs stood up. "Thanks for the dinner, Leon."

"Gibbs." Vance shot up from his armchair. "He's waited nine years."

"Leon."

"You sure you want to risk losing him by making him wait longer?"

Gibbs ran his fingers through his hair. He wasn't going to be able to get away, was he? Shaking his head, he looked at his friend. "I stayed away because I _didn't_ want to lose him. I made sure he wouldn't even get a whiff of possibility I could be interested in him romantically because I didn't want Tony to ever wonder if I hired him because I wanted to take advantage of him sexually. When I took him on, it was his senior detective, Holloway, who's a friend of mine, who asked me to take Tony under my wing. In the first six months, Dan called every fortnight to check on how Tony was doing, what I thought of his progress; whether he'd make it in NCIS; thanking me for mentoring him. To me, that automatically made Tony off-limits. I may be a bastard, Leon, but I do have professional ethics." He moved to the door. "Is that enough for you? 'Cos I'm not one for talking about my private stuff and you know that."

"Nine years, Gibbs," Vance repeated. "You've both proven yourselves professionally as far as both SecNav and I are concerned. My task now is to keep the _both_ of you, not lose one or both. And DiNozzo will walk unless you give him a reason to stay. You have five days, Gibbs. Don't waste it. "

Gibbs kept his hand on the doorknob and turned around. "Have you asked yourself what if DiNozzo doesn't feel the same way about me? There are two threads running independently here. One's SecNav's and the other is mine. I can't do anything about SecNav's but I can sure as hell tell you to leave mine alone and stop intertwining them."

"Fine," Vance conceded. "I agree. DiNozzo's career path is between him and SecNav and we know the last thing you want to do is to be the reason why DiNozzo loses his shot with the big boss. Mace may have done a good job burying the results of her investigation into a certain druglord's murder but it was unnecessary. We'd already buried it. DiNozzo was part of the team that opened up the investigation. He handed it across to Mace's people when his next op commenced. Yes, Gibbs. DiNozzo's always known who killed Hernandez. Knew it before any of us did. You might want to rethink what you think you're dealing with. Or better still, what you'll be missing out on if you don't get off your butt and make him yours.

"DiNozzo's not the SecNav's only blue-eyed boy. That chair in my office could have been yours if you'd wanted it even if your PR skills stink. I've watched you crash and burn your way through three marriages after Shannon. I never poked my nose in where I knew it wasn't wanted. I wouldn't do it now if not for SecNav's plans."

Gibbs opened the door and walked out. Only the foyer lights were on, the rest of the house in semi-darkness.

"Thank Jackie for me." Gibbs opened the front door.

"I will," Vance said, following Gibbs down the road to his car.

Gibbs looked up and saw the figure silhouetted against the window up in Vance's bedroom. Jackie and Leon were not just good friends. Seeing them always gave him an ache in his chest, a yearning for the intimacy the couple shared. He'd start wishing for a home like theirs – bright, spacious, full of wonderful aromas, a well-tended garden, close friends for dinner every fortnight, friends popping in at odd times because they felt comfortable in their home.

And he'd yearned for Tony to complete the fantasy. He had an odd feeling that it was all suddenly within his reach. Yet also fragile, as if it was also a bubble that could burst any moment and vanish.

"Like I said, Jethro." Vance leaned down to Gibbs as the latter belted up. "He's gay and he's waited nine years. It's up to you to find why and what he's waiting for. My two cents? DiNozzo sure as hell didn't stay in NCIS because of the pay or the coffee. Guess what that leaves?"

Gibbs turned the key over, gunning the engine to life. "Leon, he's still in his prime. I'm a dozen years older. Why would he want me? Especially now when he's got all that money and can get himself a dozen young hunks at his beck and call?"

Vance merely chuckled. "Oh, he wants you and you've got five days to prove me – _and_ Jackie – right. _And_ make it work." He gave the roof of the car a thump as Gibbs pulled away from the kerb.

 


	8. Chapter 8

 

 

 

 

**Chapter 8**

  
_**Thursday Morning** _

_**Onboard the Gulfstream IV** _

 

“Ah, Mr Palmer,” Ducky said. “I can see you’re taking to private jet travel very well.”

They were all seated in the Gulfstream and Palmer was looking around in wonder, it being his first time on a private jet.

“Yes, Dr Mallard.” Palmer grinned, looking around him excitedly. “I confess I forgot about Breena for a few minutes.”

“Really,” Ducky murmured. “Well, unfortunately for us I’m sure you’ll make up for that transgression.”

“What’s that, Dr. Mallard?”

“Nothing, Jimmy.” Ducky smiled benignly.

“Oh, but I did feel guilty and I did ask if she could get her sister to take care of their mother instead so Breena could come with us but she couldn’t. Her sister’s down with a very bad flu and my mother-in-law’s just out of hospital.”

“It’s Thanksgiving,” Ducky said. “Surely you’ll be expected to be there for dinner.”

“Actually, no,” Palmer replied. “Not this year. Breena’s mother had decided to have a quiet holiday because she’s not feeling up to anything much. Plus, her operation had to be moved up because of the hospital schedule. Anyway, the short of it is that Breena’s relieved I have something pleasant to do over Thanksgiving.”

“Quite understandable, Mr. Palmer.” Ducky nodded. “Just be sure to take a lot of photographs for her.”

“Oh, I’ll be taking videos with my cell phone and sending them to her instantly.” Palmer assured Ducky.

“Breena will insist you bring her once you tell her all about the trip,” Louisa said. “And the house we’ll be staying in? Wait until you see it. You will then understand why I love it so.”

“Well, I am delighted, then, to have your company.” Ducky leaned close and whispered in Louise’s ear. “I hope it will be conducive for other developments, too, love.”

“I’m confident it will.” Louise planted a kiss on Ducky’s nose.

“What other developments?” Palmer asked, then quickly retracted. “Oh, never mind. Private. I understand. By the way, you were asking how long the flight will be, Dr. Mallard? It’s just two hours to Key West. “ He put the ear phones on then buckled in.

“Oh my God, McGee!” Abby squealed. “I can’t believe it! We’re actually going to spend five days doing nothing but laze, eat and gawk.”

“Gawk?” McGee frowned. “At whom?”

“Tim, the place will be crawling with half-naked bodies! Both male and female. So we’re going to gawk.” She threw a glance at the back of the Gulfstream jet where Tony was on the three-seater couch, buckling in. Gibbs was on the opposite side of the aircraft on the other couch.

“Pretend to gawk, anyway. We’re on an undercover mission, Tim,” She whispered.

“Huh?” McGee buckled Abby in, his face avoiding the excited flutter of hands. “Hang on, Abs. You gotta get belted up. We’re taking off.”

“Ziva and I’ve already gotten our strategy together.” Abby ran on, letting McGee belt her in but otherwise ignoring him. Opposite them, Ziva smiled wistfully. Ray hadn’t made it after all. She should have known. No one else seemed surprised despite the sympathetic noises they made. Gibbs had merely said he was sorry to hear that and strode away without another word. Even Abby hadn’t pressed her for an explanation and that should have told Ziva something.

Perhaps she shouldn’t have kept so much to herself but she wasn’t used to this odd American habit of telling everyone everything that was, really, quite private and personal. Then again, the result was that she didn’t have any friends close enough, or who cared enough, to give her honest opinions when she needed one. Even for private, personal matters.

She told herself she’d have to adapt if she was going to make this country and its people her home and family. In fact, if she’d done so earlier and quicker, things might not have turned out the way it did between Ray and her. The hurt sat in her gut like a stone.

 “Ziva.” Abby’s voice brought Ziva out of her funk. Temporarily. “You okay? I’m telling Tim about our plan.”

Ziva gave them a bright smile, willing away her depressed mood.

“What are you up to, Abby?” McGee asked.

“Remember everything we talked about last Sunday?”

“Ye-eah,” McGee replied warily. “Maybe not all but most of it, I guess.”

“Remember?” Abby looked around again. Tony was watching a movie and Gibbs was fiddling with his remote. “We talked about how I know Tony’s gay?”

“ _Suspect_ he’s gay, Abs. There’s a world of difference.” McGee pointed out.

“Yeah, well.” She kept her voice low. “We’re going to gather the intel we need to support my theory. Every time there’s an opportunity, we confer and confirm. We brief and debrief. We set up scenarios. Until we’re pretty sure I’m right.”

McGee gave a soft burst of laughter. “That sounds very scientific, Abs.”

Abby punched his arm. “McGee! Look at them. Tony’s helping Gibbs get his movie on and look how close they are. Almost touching! Ziva!” Abby hissed at her colleague. “Their fingers brushed when Tony handed Gibbs back the remote. And I swear it wasn’t accidental! It was like this –” and demonstrated how Tony’s fingers brushed along Gibbs’ as he put the remote back in Gibbs’ palm then slowly retreated, fingers sliding across Gibbs’ hand.

“Really?” Ziva asked. “Wow. That’s at least a 4 out of 5 stars.”

“Huh?” McGee turned around surreptitiously.

“Don’t!” Abby pinched his arm.

“Ow!”

“You can’t peek, Tim!” Abby hissed. “Not so obviously. You’ll get their suspicions up then you’re going to have to come up with an explanation when Gibbs asks what you’re doing. You need to use spy skillz. Observe covertly.”

“Abby, I am not spending five days and four nights spying on Tony and Gibbs. You wanna get me fired? Or killed? We’re never going to get a vacation like this again and I want to enjoy every minute of it! You two want to be ridiculous go ahead but don’t drag me into it. Even if Tony is gay, so what?”

“Shush. Keep your voice down.” Abby warned.

McGee sighed. “They’ve got their earphones on. And I’m freaking out, okay?” McGee said. “Gibbs did not say a word when he saw the Gulfstream. Not. A. Word. He just glared at Tony then he gave us the evil eye. He’s holding it all in but I know he’s going to explode any minute and I’m stuck here on a plane with him and a week in the same house!”

“Well, too bad, Tim,” Abby told him. “You’re in whether you like it or not because we’re a team, right?”

“Right.” McGee sighed again.

“We’re family, right?”

“Right.” A bigger sigh.

“So you’re in. Our mission is to find irrefutable evidence that Tony is gay –”

“Abbeee,” McGee whined.

“— and evidence that both Tony and Gibbs have the hots for each other.”

“WHA-AAT? NO.” McGee squawked loudly.

“Hey, what’s up McFly?” Tony whipped off his ear phones and stood up.

“Nothing, Tony.” Abby smiled. “I just told Tim lots of beaches in Key West are clothing optional. That’s why Ziva and I didn’t bring any swimming togs. Sit down. We’re taking off.”

Tony waggled his eyebrows then put his earphones back and returned to his movie. Gibbs hadn’t even budged, engrossed in whatever he was watching.

“See!” Abby said smugly to McGee and Ziva. “Not a single word! No reaction at all. Come _on_ , McGee. Was that the Tony we know?”

“You got something there.” McGee admitted. “It _is_ strange that he didn’t make a single wisecrack.”

The plane taxied down the runway and they were airborne in a few minutes.

“Excuse me, ma’am, sir,” the stewardess came up to them once the seat belt signs were off. “Lunch will be served soon. Miss Sciuto, you ordered roast chicken Persian-style with pomegranates, served with Moghul pilaf, no starters?”

“That’s right.”

“And Miss David, you’re having the Cajun chicken Caesar. No starters either?”

“Yes, no starters,” Ziva replied. “Thank you,”

 “And you, sir. Mr McGee. You ordered a beef burger with portebello mushrooms and fried onions. No starters, too.”

“McGee! A burger?” Abby glared at him. “Fried onions?”

“What? I’m on vacation.” McGee grinned at the stewardess. “Go ahead. Thanks.”

“What’re Tony and Gibbs having?” Abby asked the stewardess.

“Let’s see – roast beef sandwiches with horseradish, extra gravy, thick-cut fries and a side salad.”

“Both of them?”

“Yes, Ms Sciuto. Both of them. Both want theirs medium-rare as well.”

“Thank you very much, um,” Abby peered at the stewardess’ name tag. “Cindi-with-an-I.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Did you hear that, Tim?” Abby asked when Cindi left. “They’re both having the same thing. It’s a subconscious sign of identification with each other.”

McGee rolled his eyes and slipped on his ear phones.

 

* * * * *

 

Ziva put down her fork.

They had moved to the back of the aircraft where the couches and dining booth were. Louise, Ducky and Palmer were seated at the booth whilst the rest were on the two couches eating off the couches’ folding tables. Gibbs had moved from where he was to sit next to Tony and Ziva, leaving Abby and McGee to take the other couch.

“I don’t want to spoil our vacation,” Ziva said, “but I believe you all would like to know why Ray is not here with us.”

Everyone stopped eating. “Tell us only if you want to,” Gibbs said, his voice soft.

Ziva ducked her head. Everyone could see she was making an effort to control her feelings. Abby had no such worries and rushed across to grab Ziva’s hands. Without a word. She just waited for Ziva to continue.

“I went to Ray’s apartment last night after work,” Ziva said. “I have a key to his place and thought I’d pack a bag for him in case he arrived late. He was scheduled to arrive at two in the morning. I thought he would be tired and since we were flying out this morning, I’d pack for him.”

“Ooh…I’m not liking where this is going.” Abby bit her lip nervously.

“I got to his apartment after a quick dinner. Around eight-thirty, and let myself in. The first thing I noted was that some lights were on. I got out my weapon and didn’t call out in case it was an intruder. Ray’s bedroom door was open and I heard someone. Sounded like she – yes, it was a woman – like she was hurt.” Ziva paused, staring blindly at the carpeted floor of the aircraft.

“Man, I know I’m not going to like this.” Tony squeezed his eyes shut and fisted his hands on his knees. The head slap had his eyes snapping open. “Listening, boss.”

“It was Ray, of course.” Ziva swallowed. “They did not see me or hear me. Both of them were facing away from the bedroom door. Doing it – what did you call it, Tony? Pooch style?”

Tony winced, both eyes squeezed shut again.

“Did you kill him?” Abby asked as she squatted in front of Ziva. “You would have told me if you did, right? I mean, I can help you dispose of the body.”

“Abs.” Gibbs’ soft interruption had Ziva looking up at him, eyes welling up.

“Ziva.” Tony dumped his plate on the floor, went to Ziva and pulled her to him, hugging her tight. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m fine, Tony,” Ziva said, pulling back and digging in her jeans pocket for tissue. Tony kept his arms around her.

“Here, dear.” Louise handed her the paper napkin from their table. “Did you curtail the lifespan of that piece of human waste, as Abby said?”

Ziva laughed, the earlier tension lessened somewhat in her. “I said, in a loud clear voice. ‘Ray! You are back earlier than I expected’ then I took aim and both of them leapt off the bed. He tried to explain, of course, but I lowered my weapon and aimed at a certain part of his anatomy and told the girl that it was okay; that I was breaking off the engagement and she could have my ring. I took it off and threw it to her but she was too upset…or nervous…I’m not sure which, to pick it up. I told Ray I didn’t care what explanation he might have – and that I was sure he had one – and that if I heard one word from him, I’d shoot both of them. Then I left.”

“You should have called me back,” Abby said. She turned to Gibbs. “I called Ziva before she went to Ray’s apartment. I just wanted to know if he got back early. I knew he was scheduled to arrive after midnight but I was hoping…” She drew a breath and left her sentence hanging.

Tony settled Ziva back down on the couch next to Gibbs then sat next to her, keeping his arm around her protectively. “There should be a rule,” He said, thoughtfully. “Never date a spook. Rule 101.”

That made Ziva laugh.

“Rule 102 – never hurt my Zeevah.” Tony tilted her chin up, at the same time surprised that the Israeli was accepting sympathy from him, of all people. She’s come a long way, he thought. “Should’ve fallen in love with me,” he added. “Would’ve made this easier all round.”

“You!” Ziva scoffed.

“Yes. Moi.” Tony made a hurt face. “What’s wrong with me? If we’d fallen for each other, I would never have cheated on you. Why? Because, one, I’m not the cheating kind and two, Gibbs would have killed me if I did.”

“Damn right I would have,” Gibbs growled.

“See?” Tony squeezed his arm around Ziva. “Much easier, mostly for me.”

“What do you mean  mostly for you?” Ziva frowned.

“Well er…” Tony fumbled for words. “Just that I wouldn’t have to wait…hope…for anyone else. I’d have you. End of story.”

Ziva shook her head. “Well, I’m not going to let this ruin our vacation. So I’m going to have a good time. I’m hurt. Of course. I have questions as to why he even bothered to propose if he still wanted to play the field. But never mind. It’s done. It’s over. My life continues and I’m not as heartbroken as I should be so don’t worry about me.”

The pilot announced just then that they would be landing soon so they went back to their seats. Abby turned to check if Ziva was coming back to hers but saw, instead, Tony reaching over Gibbs to pull his seat belt across and buckle him in. She saw Gibbs mouth a ‘thanks’ as Tony belted himself in next.

“Timmy.” Abby tugged at McGee’s arm. “Timmy!”

“What?”

“I just witnessed another 4. Maybe a 4.1 even.” She related to McGee what she saw.

“Tony did?” McGee asked, wanting to turn around but stopped himself. “And Gibbs let him?”

“Not just let him. He said ‘thanks’.” Abby’s eyes rounded. “I’ve never seen that before – these affectionate gestures between them. Do you think that’s how they are when Tony goes over to Gibbs’ house?”

McGee frowned. “Hmmm. I must say that is thought-provoking. I’m going to have to see something for myself before I give you an eval.”

 

 

* * * * *

 

As they prepared for landing, Gibbs’ thoughts returned to several things that had been on his mind since he returned from Vance’s home last night. First on the list was this bloody Gulfstream. He’d nearly had a heart attack when he saw they were heading for it instead of the gate for commercial but hadn’t wanted to start the holiday by yelling at Tony in front of everyone. It could wait till they settled in their vacation rental. Now he had Ziva to handle as well. He hoped she wouldn’t retreat into herself again and he had to make sure he didn’t start blaming himself for not predicting this.

“I should have said something, boss.” Tony’s voice shook Gibbs out of his musings.

“About?” Gibbs looked at his senior agent, unable to prevent the surge of longing that coursed through him. The first thought that went through his mind when Tony took Ziva into his arms was that he wanted to be there. He wanted what Ziva was getting. Then again, if Vance was right and if he didn’t chicken out, he might just get everything. Or lose it all if Vance was wrong.

 “CI-Ray.” Tony answered. “I knew there was something hinky about him but I didn’t say anything.”

“Which was the right thing to do.”

“But if I had said something, even if it pissed of her off – which it would – it might have made her look a little closer.”

“Or just made her more stubborn.” Gibbs pointed out. “All you’d have done would be to create a blind spot and she would end up not seeing the very thing you want her to see. Which was…” Gibbs paused. “What _did_ you see, DiNozzo?”

“What you’d have seen in me before. Y’know…the eyes trailing after the hot chick in the short skirt…giving you the come hither look and just enough wiggle to tell you she’s interested. And our CI-Ray was interested. That’s what I saw.” Tony expelled a breath. “Should have called him on it. And if he played dumb, would've had a talk with Ziva.”

“That’s the last thing you wanna do. Heard of the phrase ‘shooting the messenger’?”

“Yeah, well.” Tony sighed. “Sometimes you just have to do the unpleasant stuff.”

“You think you could’ve talked her out of marrying him?” Gibbs asked, skeptically, shaking his head.

“I would have tried,” Tony countered. “Wouldn’t you have done the same for me?”

“DiNozzo, if you came and told me you were gonna marry some gum-chewing twenty year-old you picked up at a bar, I’d have let you learn your lesson the hard way.” Gibbs smiled, shaking his head. Tony’s heart turned over. What he’d give to see that smile every day forever.

“Took you three times to learn yours.” Tony held up both palms as if to ward off the blow. “Just kidding, boss.”

“One thing before we land, DiNozzo.”

“What, boss?”

“Don’t call me ‘boss’ the next five days.”

“I won’t if you won’t call me by my last name.”

Gibbs thought about that a moment then flashed him a grin. “Deal, Tony.”

“Alright! Jethro –” Tony stepped on the mental brakes. “I mean, uhh, Gibbs.”

“You know what? You can call me Jethro for the duration of our vacation, if you like. Or Leroy. Tony’s mouth was still open as the stewardess stopped by to check that they were belted up.

“What’s the matter, Tony?” Gibbs asked. “Leroy and Jethro too Beverly Hillbillies for you?”

“What? No! No, of course not. Jethro’s fine. Leroy, too.” Tony cleared his throat. “Should have plenty of opportunity to try either one out seeing as we’re sharing the master suite.”

“We are?”

“Yep. Uh, do you mind coz if you do, I can share Palmer’s room. It’s a single room but it’s got a queen size bed.”

“If I minded, I’d tell Palmer to sleep in the master suite with you and take _his_ room but no, I’m fine sharing with you.”

“It’s um, a king-size bed, boss. Jethro…Leroy.”

Gibbs just threw him an amused look and they sat through the landing in silence, watching the Keys below them.

 

 

_**The Eagle’s Nest;** _

_**Key West** _

 

They stepped out of Key West International Airport to bright sunshine and balmy breezes.

“Exactly the way I envisaged it would be.” Abby hugged McGee’s arm delightedly. “I may have been born in the South but I haven’t been back since forever!”

“Well, so far the weather report’s positive.” McGee smiled, putting on his sunglasses. “The hurricane season seems to be over and the weatherman’s reporting great weather for the rest of the year.”

Their driver, Michel, was waiting to ferry them to the house and Gibbs took an instant dislike to the man, which Abby put down to jealousy because Michel was young and hunky. And paying Tony way too much attention. Michel was, as he told them, their driver and Man Friday for the duration of their vacation.

“Anything you need or want,” he said, flashing Tony a toothpaste ad smile, “just let me know. _Anything_ at all.” That last sentence was accompanied with a squeeze of Tony’s arm, a gesture that was not lost on Gibbs.

“Sorry about the vehicle,” Michel called out to everyone as he led them to a white minibus with his company logo printed on its sides. The people-mover is being serviced and I can only get it back later this afternoon.

 “Did you see the glare Gibbs gave Michel for touching Tony?” Abby whispered to McGee as they settled in the mini-bus.

 “I did, actually.” McGee admitted.

“At least a 4.3!” Abby declared, inputting the data into her smart phone. “And he’s definitely not happy that Tony’s sitting in the front seat next to Michel.”

“And getting along so well with him,” Ziva added in a whisper. “Have you thought about what the repercussion will be if you’re right and there’s this secret, silent thing going on between them but only Gibbs knows and Tony is oblivious? And he starts flirting with both women _and_ men?’

“Easy,” McGee said. “It means somewhere along, either Palmer or I am going get the nasty end of it. I just know it.”

“Oh, McPessimist.” Abby frowned at him. “Stop it.”

“Channeling Tony now, are we?”

“I’m going to sit next to him before he wonders what we’re whispering about.” Ziva got up and moved down to the back of the minibus to join Gibbs.

 

 

* * * * *

 

It took them just ten minutes to get from the airport to The Eagle’s Nest, the name of their vacation rental.

“Omigod, Tim!” Abby squealed as Michel pulled up to the large, sprawling house at the end of West Cypress Avenue.

“What a gorgeous house!” Ziva remarked as the automatic gates opened to let their vehicle in.

“Not a house,” Gibbs muttered. “Mansion.” He frowned at Tony. He was expecting a conch – the Classical-style wooden house. not this brick and stone monstrosity. DiNozzo had some explaining to do.

Everyone, with the exception of Gibbs, oohed and ahhed over the house. It was designed more like a hacienda than the typical Key West conch houses which had its origins in the Bahamas.

“The original owner was from Argentina,” Louise explained as they alighted from the vehicle. “He modeled it after his home on the family plantation. It’s currently owned by a Spanish stockbroker who’s divesting himself of his hard assets so he’s put the house on the rental market while waiting for an offer.”

“Why is he selling it? It’s a breathtaking place.” Palmer looked about him in open-mouthed wonder and clicking away on his cell phone camera.

“Spain’s going through a rather tough time, economically, and I suppose the owner hasn’t been spared,” Louise replied. “But it’s just one of his properties. He has an even more magnificent home in the Barbados.”

“Ha. Like Sir Cliff Richard’s,” Tony said. “I’ve seen pics of that one.”

“The story goes that the owner’s ancestor fell in love with, and married a buccaneer’s grand-daughter,” Louise continued. “And named the house in honor of his wife’s grandfather who helped him get a foothold in the Bahamas.”

“C’mon, Tony.” Abby pulled him by the arm. “Let’s get our bags and find our rooms. Then I want to go exploring.”

Michel had given Tony a run-down on where to go. The Island House was a must-visit, especially if you were gay. Retrophyxia specialized in oldies music and always drew a crowd, no matter what night of the week.

“If you want to go the Island House, I can get you a day pass so you can use the hotel’s facilities,” Michel told Tony, as he slipped him his card. “I’ll pass it to you when I bring the people-mover later.”

“We shall leave it all in your very capable hands,” Tony said, giving Michel a wink.

“Carla told me to take good care of you guys.” Michel grinned. “Enjoy your vacation and I’ll be round later with the other vehicle. Carla has booked a sunset cruise for you so if you like, we could leave at 4pm, take a slow drive down to the departure point at Duval Street. The cruise is two hours and you’ll be done by 7. I’ll pick you guys up and go for dinner.”

“Hey, heads-up!” Tony called out. “We’ve got a booking for a sunset cruise this evening then dinner after. Are we good with that or does anyone prefer to stay in and order Chinese?” Without waiting for a response, Tony told Michel. “Looks like we’re all on board. Thanks, pal.”

“No problem. I’ll put these bags in the house.”

 

 

* * * * *

 

“C’mon. C’mon. C’mon!” Abby hurried up the staircase, McGee following behind.

“The Master suite is right at the end of the hallway and up a short flight of stairs, Tony,” Louise told him. “Ducky and I will take the guestroom downstairs. Easier on the knees.” She gave him a wry look. “And Palmer, there’s another single room next to ours if you want it. Ziva, the other one is upstairs.”

“I’ll take the one next to you.” Palmer picked up his bag and followed Louise.

“Come on, Tony.” Gibbs headed towards the stairs. “Let’s go find our master suite.”

Abby and Ziva exchanged a look.

Tony grabbed his suitcase and ran after Gibbs. He remembered to call me Tony, he smiled to himself. He thought Gibbs would have forgotten by now but he hadn’t. He’d remembered.

The Master suite was everything Tony could have asked for and he could see from Gibbs’ half-smile that the other man was thinking along the same lines. “Like it?”

“Yeah,” Gibbs replied, looking out at the expanse through the wall-to-wall verandah, the Gulf stretching endlessly before them. “Good enough for you, Tony?”

“More than I expected, actually. This whole house. Much bigger. But surprisingly cozy. Not many houses this size give off that homey feel.” Tony did a slow spin before stepping out onto the verandah. “Great view. I don’t think I need to go anywhere. Just sit out here with my tropical cocktail with the little umbrella. I wonder if Michel doubles up as personal bartender.”

“I think Michel’s happy to double up as anything you want, Tony.”

“Hmm. You got that vibe, too?” Tony frowned. “My gaydar’s never been that good but yeah, now that you mention it. The guy’s a little touchy-feely.”

“A _little_?” Gibbs snorted. He threw his bag on the king-size bed and started unpacking. Tony did the same with his, neither one remarking on the one bed they’d be sharing tonight.

Gibbs’ mind was preoccupied as he put his tee shirts and Polos away, hanging up the one button-down and light summer jacket he’d brought. A pair of bathers, shorts and a pair of pants plus his old pair of jeans and he was set. Tony, he thought, had brought half his designer wardrobe from the looks of it.

He  leaned back from the wardrobe door to check on the younger man but couldn’t see him. Gibbs stepped away from his wardrobe to look for Tony. He found him in a narrow passage, humming away as he hung up his clothes on the rail that ran along the entire length of the passageway.

Gibbs entered and placed his hands on Tony’s waist as he shuffled through the narrow confines of the passage. It led out to a spacious bathroom suite which consisted of a huge, round bath and a glass-enclosed shower.

Tony froze when he felt Gibbs’ hands on him. It felt so intimate. He could smell Gibbs’ woodsy cologne, felt Gibbs’ breath fan the back of his neck as he squeezed past. Tony whimpered softly. This was going to be the vacation from hell.

Inside the bathroom suite, Gibbs took stock of the amenities all laid out on the counter as in a 5-star hotel. He grunted when he saw something he’d never seen in a hotel, 5-star or not – a small glass jar filled with packets of lube and condoms. What kind of place was this? What if a family with kids rented the house? He picked up a packet of lube. At least it was plain and not strawberry or something. A kid might think it was jello and eat it.

“Ready to head down?” Tony called out, walking into the bathroom. “Wow. Nice. Very nice.”

“You might just not want to go back after this, Tony,” Gibbs said as he walked out, leaving Tony checking out the things on the bath counter.

“Nah, as they say – ‘it’s great but I wouldn’t live here’.” Tony trotted after Gibbs.

“Why not? I would, part of the year, anyway, if I had the money.”

“You would?” Tony was surprised, figuring Gibbs was a one-state, one-city place guy, even if he wasn’t a one-marriage man.

“Sure, why not? Weather suits me. Winter’s getting to be a pain these days.”

“Then I guess I’ll have to buy this house so we can all come here to get away from the winter.” Tony grinned.

“Hurricanes,” Gibbs said, walking out. “California’s a better choice.”

“Earthquakes,” Tony said.

“Hurricane’s yearly,” Gibbs countered. “Earthquakes are much less frequent.”

“Okay, you pick a place for me and I’ll buy it as a retirement home for Team Gibbs. How about that?”

Gibbs cocked his head and smiled. “C’mon. Let’s head down.” Oh yeah. He and DiNozzo definitely need to talk about a couple of things but he didn’t want to be a wet blanket either. He’d agreed to this holiday and the team deserved it.

Even if DiNozzo was paying for it.

Music was blaring away as they went down the stairs.

Someone had turned on the TV to a music channel and everyone was gathered in the lounge.

Tony and Gibbs joined them, Abby squealing her delight as usual.

“Tony! Tony! Tony! This is so super!” She grabbed hold of him and hugged him tightly before hopping to Gibbs to do the same.

Tony started singing and dancing along with Kelly Clarkson who was performing her electro hit, If I Can’t Have You. “Kelly Clarkson, Gibbs.” When Gibbs gave him a blank look, Tony explained, “Winner of the very first American Idol 2002?”

Gibbs gave him another blank look and sauntered out to the patio.

“I must confess to relating to Gibbs’ lack of appreciation for the current generation’s music.” Ducky smiled.

“He’s gotta like _some_ kind of music!” Tony insisted. “I mean who doesn’t like music? Even Abby loves music.” He paused. “Her kind.”

“What kind of music does Gibbs like, do you think? Louise asked.

“Hits from the 50s.” Ducky revealed in a conspiratorial whisper. “Reminds him of his childhood. His mother would play them every day, he told me. “Doo-wop, it’s called.”

“Do what?” Ziva asked, frowning.

“‘Dee double oh, ‘doo’.” Tony explained. “And ‘wop’ is just a nonsense sound. Doo-Wop is a kind of rhythm and blues that developed in the late 40s and went mainstream in the 50s. The term “Doo-Wop” comes from the nonsense syllables that were inserted into the background.” He sang them a few Doo-Wop notes imitating the movements of the singing groups typical of the era.

“Oh, really.” Ziva laughed. “Should appeal to you, too, then. Nonsense syllables inserted in the background…”

“Nice to have you back, Zivver.” Tony gave her a sidelong look. “And don’t knock Doo-Wop. It’s an American heritage. American Bandstand, Miss David. You want to be an American, you gotta know your Doo-Wop.”

“Doo-Wop is reminiscent of the barbershop quartets so popular in my era,” Ducky said, adding his bit.

Tony chuckled. “Yeah, if you think Gibbs’ taste in music is ancient,” he said to Ziva. “Try Ducky’s.”

“Hey, Gibbs likes stuff from the 60s, too,” Abby added. “And country. He has some country CDs at home. I think as long as it has a melody and doesn’t screech and bang, Gibbs likes it.”

“Country. Yeah,” Tony said. “That would go with the Lee-Roy Jeth-Roh.” He chuckled. “But Doo-Wop stretched into the early 60s and is as American as apple pie and…Gibbs.”

“I know he doesn’t care for opera,” Ziva said. “But he doesn’t mind Puccini if its orchestral. No singing. He asked me once what I was listening to with my ear phones and I let him hear for himself. He went out and bought the CD after that.”

“What was it?” Tony asked.

“Puccini’s O Babbino Caro by Joshua Bell.”

“Oh, that’s a beauty.” Ducky nodded. “Do you know the story of the acclaimed violinist when he appeared incognito on a subway platform in Washington, D.C. one cold winter morning, playing his heart out for tips?

“Bell apparently played six Bach pieces for about 45 minutes during which time several people passed him by, not even stopping to listen. It was rush hour, you see. One man did slow his pace to listen before hurrying off. A few minutes later, our esteemed violinist received his first tip – a dollar – from a passing lady. Another person, at least, stopped to lean against the wall and listened for a few minutes then he, too, walked away. In the 45 minutes he played, he collected about $30. When he stopped, no one even noticed and no one applauded. No one knew that he was Joshua Bell and that the violin he was playing on was worth three and half million dollars.”

“Wow. That’s awesome.” Abby breathed out. “I mean not awesome that no one even knew who he was but – no, not awesome at all. Sad. Worrying, really.”

“I know that story,” McGee said.

“I thought that was an urban legend,” Tony said.

 “Nope,” Gibbs said,startling them all as he strode back in from the garden.  “True story. Organized by the Washington Post. Three years ago. Go google it. The guy that stopped and leaned on the wall to listen? That was me.”

“It was? _That’s_ awesome, Gibbs,” Abby said. Tony blinked. Awesome, indeed.

“I was waiting for Fornell, actually.” Gibbs admitted. “We had a meeting at Homeland Security, that’s why I was there at L’Enfant Plaza Station that morning.”

“Joshua Bell is, what the younger generation would term ‘hot’, I suppose,” Louise said. “He’s got that clean-cut Donny Osmond cutesy look going with him but leaner and taller. Much hotter, if I may say so.”

“And straight, to the disappointment of much of the population in Key West, I’m sure," Ducky said. "If he has fans here.” he added.

“Breena’s a great fan of his,” Palmer said, grinning. “I remember her telling me all his gay fans were heartbroken when it was announced he was straight and had fathered a child with his girlfriend. There was the ever-hopeful lot, though, who believe he _is_ gay because he chose to have a child with his now-ex girlfriend but they’d agreed not to marry. And yeah, if he ever played in Key West – which is highly unlikely – the _entire_ population would turn up!” More laughter from Palmer. “There being so many gays here, you know…” His laughter faltered away. “Not that I have anything against gays…just –”

“Good to know, Palmer,” Gibbs interrupted. “What time are we leaving?” he asked Tony.

“Four.” Tony glanced at his watch. “Another hour to go.”

“I need to get dressed!” Abby flew up the stairs, followed by Ziva.

“If we’re going out to dinner straight from the cruise then I’d better get dressed, too,” Louise said.

Tony looked at Gibbs.

“I can go as I am, can’t I?” Gibbs asked, looking at his baggy jeans and Polo.

“Just as you are, Gibbs. I’m okay, too, I think.” He sniffed at his armpits. “No dancing tonight so I should be good.”

Finding themselves alone, since the rest vanished to their rooms, Tony followed Gibbs as the latter walked back out into the garden. There was a freeform pool at the far right with a jacuzzi and cabanas. They walked over to check those out and discovered it was a sauna with changing rooms, toilet and shower. “Cool!” Tony poked his head out. “Hey, Jeth. We’ve gotta to try this out before we leave.”

Gibbs’ reply was a half-smile, half-grunt.

Next to that was a large annexe, obviously part of the main house and probably for the staff.

“Hey, Tony. Gibbs.” Michel strolled up to them.

“What’s this?” Tony asked him, looking up at the building.

“Used to be the slaves’ quarters. Just kidding.” Michel grinned. “The staff quarters, to be politically-correct and polite. Some longer term vacation tenants bring their housekeepers and nannies even though housekeeping service is provided. Therese, the housekeeper and her husband, Papa, live here.”

“We saw boats moored off the pier,” Tony said.

“Yes, there is a boathouse over at the other end. Every house along this waterfront stretch has its own boat pier,” Michel said. “We’ve got a large workshop, too. Want to see it?”

“Sure.” Tony looked around for Gibbs but he’d already started off. Tony shrugged and they followed after Gibbs.

“He always like that?” Michel asked.

“Like what?” Tony played dumb.

Michel chuckled softly. “Nothing. He’s hot, though. What? I’m gay. I appreciate hotness. And I have a fondness for older men.”

“Well, Michel ma belle. That older man is not interested.”

Michel threw Tony a smirk. “If you say so.”

“I do,” Tony said, one brow arching meaningfully. “Now, this boathouse and workshop…”

 

 

* * * * *

 

“Gibbs.” Tony did a three-sixty. “This house was made for you. Boats moored a few meters away, a boat slip. And look at this workshop.” He looked at Michel. “Who uses this? I thought the owner was selling.”

“The stuff isn’t his. It belongs to Papa who’s a retired mechanic and carpenter rolled into one. He just tinkers about with his sons’ cars and builds stuff for his grandkids. It’ll get cleared out once the house is sold.”

“And the boats?” Gibbs asked, speaking for the first time.

“Belongs to Mr Salini, the owner. Papa’s a boat aficionado. Built that one there.” Michel pointed to the second vessel.

Gibbs went over to inspect it.

“Boss builds boats, too,” Tony told Michel.

“Carla told me you guys are NCIS agents,” Michel said, as he watched Gibbs disappear into the boat’s cabin.

“Yup,” Tony replied.

“We had a couple visit us earlier this year. There was an Admiral staying here with friends and one of them, another high-ranking officer, died of a heart attack. NCIS came in to investigate. Not to stay as guests like you.” Michel looked at Tony then said, “a little pricey, this place.”

“Yeah, well. If you want quality, you have to pay for it,” was all Tony said, not wanting to explain how they could afford it. No doubt, Carla would fill Michel in if the latter asked. “You born here?”

“Yes. Moved to Miami when I went to uni. Worked there for a few years and came back here to join the family business. We’re in transportation.”

“Doing okay?”

“My division’s doing okay enough. We have an air charter division and a yacht one as well. Profits are building up, got a small but reliable team of people and I have good contracts with the major hotels. I’m normally at the office but Carla asked me to personally look after you guys.”

“Well, she _is_ going to be Ducky’s sister-in-law soon.”

“You sure about him?” Michel nodded towards the boat and Gibbs.

“That he’s straight?” Tony asked. “Oh yeah. If he weren’t…”

“You’d be on him like white on rice already.” Michel finished. “Don’t worry. Message received loud and clear.”

Tony merely smiled. The two men watched Gibbs as he emerged and climbed back onto the pier.

“Hey, Jethro. Almost four.” Tony tapped his watch.

 


	9. Chapter 9

 

 

**Chapter 9**

                                      

  
Palmer went a little manic with the video-taking of the sunset, “— albeit, it is a sight to behold,” Ducky conceded. “I hope Ziva will manage to get through this crisis quickly.” He glanced over at her holding onto the railing and looking into the horizon which was now a blaze of fiery colors.

Tony stood some distance away, a gaggle of tourists behind him chattering away noisily as they sipped cocktails and McGee and Abby were on the upper deck. Tony turned his gaze back to the setting sun, suddenly filled with a longing he couldn’t quite describe.

He felt Gibbs’ presence next to him before the other man spoke. Over the years he’d come to sense the man’s close proximity before he even saw him and could even intuit what his team leader wanted done and hop on to it before the bark came.

If only he could read Gibbs’ mind well enough to know if there was just the slightest chance…

“Beautiful,” Gibbs said softly. His eyes were on what everyone else was looking at but if anyone were to ask him – and if he wanted to answer honestly – he’d say the sunset wasn’t what he was referring to.

Tony glanced sideways at his boss. “I used to fantasize I was a pirate sailing the high seas,” Tony said, just as softly. “I’d look out to the horizon…” he lifted his hand to shield his eyes, mimicking a sailor looking for land in the distance. “And then I see it. Land ahoy! It’s a tropical paradise. White, powdery sand, the obligatory Brooke Shields blue lagoon and waterfall. One day, maybe I’ll buy my own little slice of paradise…”

“With your own little Brooke Shields?” Gibbs snorted.

“Nah, she’s too old now. Not that I’m looking for a young, nubile virgin.” He wondered if Gibbs was one. To the joys of gay sex, that is. _Of course he is, you idiot._ “I guess I’ll just trade my apartment in for a loft instead of a desert island. Always wanted a loft.”

“Yeah?” Gibbs grunted. The man did a lot of that, Tony thought. Like an average of three grunts a day. Three hundred and sixty five days a year, nine years…made it 9,855 grunts. _I’ve lived through more than nine thousand grunts._ “What else you planning to do, Tony?” Gibbs asked.

“Buy a pony, maybe. Always wanted one as a kid. Couldn’t because they don’t let you have one in boarding school. I guess they could but I didn’t stay long enough for them to let me keep one even if my dad got me one.” He paused. “Travel, maybe. Now that I can afford to when I retire. But that’s like another couple of decades away. Still, yeah. I’d travel more. See more places. Hey, I could buy a double-decker motor coach like Robert de Niro’s character had in Meet the Fockers and take the whole team. Then when they kick me off the agency because my knees have given out, I figure I can still coach kids on basketball. Work with underprivileged ones.”

Another grunt. “Somewhere in your dreams and schemes, you figure you’ll really stay that long in NCIS?”

“No dreams and schemes, Jethro,” Tony replied softly. “Just measured thoughts. A plan or two.”

“Plans. Schemes. Same thing. I know you told me you’re not planning to go anywhere –”

Tony didn’t let Gibbs finish. “And I meant it. I told you. I’m happy where I am. Wouldn’t have stayed this long if I weren’t.”

“Why, Tony? Why _have_ you stayed this long? God knows I haven’t been an easy boss. Never was. Won’t be.”

“There’ll never be a boss like you, Jethro,” Tony said, then gave a small laugh. “And I meant that as a compliment.”

Gibbs gave a nod in acknowledgment.

“You know,” Tony started. “Maybe I do want to have plans and schemes but even hopes and dreams realized wouldn’t be half as much fun if you don’t have someone to share it with.” He nodded towards Ziva. “ _She’s_ going to be hell to deal with. She shows this hard exterior but I know she hurts inside.”

Gibbs sighed. “Yeah. You keep an eye on her. She just might empty her Glock on the bastard.”

“I’ll help dispose of the body.”

Gibbs eyed him balefully.

“Just kidding.” Tony grinned and grabbed Gibbs by the shoulders, shaking him playfully. _Anything just to touch him_. “Jethro, when I find that special someone to retire with, then I’ll quit NCIS. Until then, you’re stuck with me. Of course by then you’d be retired, too.”

 

 

**A few moments earlier…**

**on the upper deck of the catamaran.**

 

“Look at them, Tim.” Abby pulled at McGee’s sleeve. “Tell me that’s not getting into each other’s space! And they don’t even realize it.” She gulped down her Key West Sundowner cocktail.

McGee followed her gaze and sure enough, Gibbs and Tony were standing so close to each other they looked like they were glued to each other. Then, to his surprise – and Abby’s squeal – they saw Tony put an arm around Gibbs and gave their boss’ shoulders an affectionate shake and squeeze, followed by the Dazzling DiNozzo smile.

And Gibbs smiled back.

“What do you think, Timmy? A 4.8?”

“A…4.0” McGee concluded. “Someone’s got to be disciplined about this if we’re going to do this right.” At Abby’s protest, he drew her to him. “I admit it looks promising but anything less than a bark from Gibbs is already promising so I don’t want to read too much into it. And I don’t want you disappointed if nothing comes of it. You know Tony. He’s a naturally affectionate guy. He’s like a Labrador. No discrimination at all. Can’t tell a burglar from a friend.”

“So what do we do next?”

 “Well, let’s watch and assess Tony first. You’re so sure he’s gay and attracted to Gibbs – which I still think is way too farfetched – so we’ll see if he shows any signs of it. I think that’s about as reasonable as we can get. Gibbs - I don’t think we’re going to get any kind of response from him at all.” He saw the mulish look on Abby’s face and sighed. “Abs, they’ve been working together for nine years. If anything could happen, it would have long ago. Gibbs has been married four times, Abby. You’re forgetting that.”

“Am not.” Abby shook her head. “He just never thought he could find someone he could love as much as he loved Shannon. I talked to Ducky and the few times Gibbs talked about Shannon to him, Ducky thought she sounded just like Tony. You know, full of life, funny and she even liked clowning around. Yeah,” she nodded, seeing McGee’s skeptical expression. “Ducky said bossman’s face would light up when he described Shannon’s love of practical jokes. She didn’t play them much but she always saw the funny side of it. So, I think he sees the same traits in Tony but he didn’t do anything because well, he thinks Tony is straight.”

McGee threw up his hands. “Abby. There’re so many potholes in your – your theory, it’s a good thing you don’t work this way or we’d never solve any of our cases!” He laughed then yelped when Abby punched him in the gut.

“Timothy McGee.” She crossed her arms on her chest and glared at him, ignoring the curious looks from the other passengers. “I know what my gut says and in every one of my investigations, I go where it tells me first. Then I do tests to prove my theory. But dealing with people is not an exact science, Tim. We’re not machines. And we have to start somewhere, so I say there’s something there and you’ll see. It’ll take some time but it’ll happen, okay?”

“Okay, Abs.” McGee sighed. “I told you – I just don’t want you to be disappointed. I mean, look at Ziva. Can you imagine how she’s feeling now? She just announced her engagement and two days later she’s telling us it’s off. I can’t deal with two disappointed women at one time.”

“I know, Tim, but I also know she’s not in love with Ray.”

“What? Then why was she going to marry him?”

“I don’t know, exactly. I think she’s a bit like Gibbs. She doesn’t think what she wants is out there for her. She’s wounded inside but believes what’s possible for other people isn’t possible for her. She was settling for Ray.”

“Man, you make it sound so sad.”

“It is. That’s why we have to help them! Send good vibes their way, you know.”

McGee sighed and smiled. “You are a good person, Abby Sciuto, and I love you.”

“Ooh, Timmy. I love you, too.”

 

 

**_ Pepe’s Café on Caroline Street _ **

 

“What are you having, Jethro?” Tony asked, oblivious to the look Abby threw him under her lashes and to the kick she gave McGee under the table.

After their sunset cruise, Michel had driven them to what he said was a hundred year-old restaurant for steak. Very casual, Michel had said. “Figured you wouldn’t want something too dressy on your first day.”

He was right and everyone was glad when he stopped at a ramshackle-looking wooden house. Only Gibbs seemed to have faith the place would serve up a decent meal and happily entered. Michel declined to join them when Tony invited him, saying he had a prior appointment but would be back for them as soon as they were ready to leave.

“I’ll have the rib eye, of course,” Gibbs replied to Tony, obviously happy with what he saw on the menu.

Tony, seeing that smile on Gibbs’ face, thought he could live on that forever. Who needed food?

“With the works,” Gibbs added. “Fried onions and all.”

“Onions?” Tony echoed.

“What?” Gibbs looked at him. “Love me love my farts.”

Palmer’s jaw dropped. He leaned towards Ducky. “Did Gibbs just say ‘farts’?” he whispered.

“Shush, young man.” Ducky eyed him sternly above his rimmed glasses.

“I will have the pork chop.” Ziva decided.

“ _Pork_ chop?” Tony repeated.

“Tony, why are you repeating our orders?” Ziva demanded. “And I will have onions, too.”

“You’re Jewish. You don’t eat pork chops.”

“I’m not a practicing Jew. Though I admit I don’t eat pork a lot but I’m on holiday and I’ve decided I want to do something I don’t usually do.”

“Tim and I are having the fillet mignon with mushroom sauce,” Abby said.

Two dozen baked oysters were added to the order, along with two salads for the table to share. Only Ducky and Palmer ordered the roast turkey, insisting on some reminder of the Thanksgiving event.

When everyone had ordered and their drinks had been served, conversation flowed easily and the cheery crowd added to the holiday feel. It was noisy and they needed to raise their voices slightly. As he expected, Tony noted Gibbs had retreated into his silent mode but the half-smile remained on features that had softened with something indefinable.

As if he sensed Tony’s gaze, Gibbs turned and those blue eyes crinkled at soft green ones, both speaking things in silence what they wish could be said audibly.

When the food came and Ducky gave thanks for their bountiful blessings, everyone tucked in. Tony placed one Oyster Florentine and one Mexican Roast Oyster on Gibbs’ plate, then a helping of salad before taking some for himself. The gesture did not go unnoticed by Abby. Or Ziva, who frowned at the two men then cocked her head at Abby.

 

 

* * * * *

 

Gibbs was in a good mood. He wasn’t the type that had to join in the conversation flowing around him. He was content to watch and listen, to absorb the ambience.

He watched his team as they joined in the raucous atmosphere of Pepe’s restaurant. He watched Ziva chat with diners from the next table and he watched Abby’s joy radiating out from her face; her expressive hands; and he watched the indulgent look McGee gave her but most of all, he watched Tony.

He could see Tony was happy. Here, tonight, surrounded by his friends, his family at NCIS, Gibbs could believe this was where Tony belonged and that Tony knew it. That was the vital part – that Tony knew it.

Yet, like the realist he was – the pessimist Fornell would insist he was – Gibbs couldn’t help the frisson of uncertainty. The thought that this conviviality would dissipate the minute they left Key West filled him with a sadness that threatened to choke him. He squelched it. It was pointless to indulge in fantasies as it was futile to give the unrealistic fear a toehold. Tony could never be his because Tony was…Tony. A love-em and leave-em kinda guy.

Even though Tony was gay, he’d chosen to stay closeted, something Gibbs would not do if he were to be involved with a man. Besides, if Tony had harbored any feelings for him, he wouldn’t have stayed in the closet all these years. Tony, being Tony, would have tried to find a way to find out if Gibbs felt that same, to find out if Gibbs was gay, too, at the very least.

So Gibbs sat there, drinking his coffee, observing his team, telling himself this was as good as it could get.

Palmer looked like he was having a great time with Ducky and Louise. Ziva, despite her heartache, was chatting happily with Tony and the other two members of their close-knit family. Lots of laughter, playful punches and smacks.

Then there was those quick glances from Tony now and then, as if he was checking if Gibbs was okay.

Gibbs hoped, with all his heart, that Tony would never ever change. This Tony, whose attention seemed unmistakably trained on Gibbs since they left D.C., was a Tony he wanted for the rest of his life. He had only five days but a Marine could get a lot done in that time if he knew what his goal was.

Gibbs continued to study the younger man as the latter threw himself wholeheartedly into their little dinner party. If ever Gibbs loved Tony, he loved him now – that handsome profile, the laughing green eyes as they caught the light; those lips that Gibbs had fantasized about every day and night. If only.

“Hey, Jethro..” Tony called out.

Ziva exchanged a glance with Abby who gave McGee another knowing kick under the table. ‘ _Jethro’_?, Abby mouthed to McGee.

Gibbs looked enquiringly at Tony. “Yeah?”

“Michel sent a text asking if we want to go to this club after dinner. It plays your kind of music.”

“And what’s that?”

“Doo-Wop. Every Thursday through Sunday.”

“You want Abby to listen to songs from the _50s_?” Gibbs laughed. “She’ll be tearing her hair out.”

 “Hey, I’m on holiday,” Abby protested. “Like Ziva, I want to do something I don’t normally do. So if Doo-Wop is your audio poison then it’ll be mine…while we’re in Key West,” she added. McGee stared at her. “What, Timmy?” she punched him on the arm.

“Ouch! Stop assaulting me.” McGee rubbed his arm. “Alright, we’ll go but I don’t to hear you complain that your ears hurt or that it’s giving you a headache.”

“Oh Tim,” Abby gave his arm a squeeze. “I could never say I have a headache with you.” She winked.

“Whoa. Whoa!” Tony warded them off with his hands. “Get a room already, you two.” He glanced at Gibbs and frowned, then whispered to him. “What happened to Rule 12? You never got round to telling me how you knew about them.”

“Yes, I did.” Gibbs replied. “I told you Abby told me while you were out of the office. Of course, I already knew.”

“No, you didn't tell me." Then, eyes wide, he asked, "You knew before Abby told you?”

“Yup.” Gibbs smiled. “McGee talked to me before he asked her out.”

“You’re referring to now or when he first worked with us?”

“Now, Tony. He didn’t know there was a Rule 12 when he joined us. He wanted to know if he could have my okay to date Abby. In view of Rule 12.”

“And you obviously gave it.” Tony cast the couple a curious look. “So what about Rule 12?”

“Rule 51.”

“Huh?” Tony frowned. Sometimes you’re wrong? “You’re saying you were wrong about Rule 12?” Hope bloomed. Still,  it was one thing to relax on a rule for his team members but Gibbs, being Gibbs, would never allow it for himself.

Would he?

“Hey, I thought we were going to listen to some music?” Gibbs said, cutting into Tony’s thoughts.

 


	10. Chapter 10

 

 

 

 

**Chapter 10**

 

Songs featured in this chapter:

**The Tokens – Tonight I Fell in Love; 1961**

_<http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JsJc71NukUo> _

Lee Andrews & the Hearts – Long & Lonely Nights; 1957

[h _ttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ouRph29U2Hk_](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ouRph29U2Hk)

 

Skyliners - Since I Don’t Have You; 1958

_<http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qzyEd2soQkk> _

 

Lee Andrews and the Hearts - Try The Impossible; 1958

_<http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yvztZhZEZrs> _

****

 

 

_**After Dinner;** _

_**Retrophyxia; Duval Street** _

 

“Michel knows the owner and he’s secured a table for us.” Tony told them. “There. Looks like they were looking out for us. Over here, Gibbs.”

The man who had been waving them over introduced himself. “Hi, I’m Sam, the owner of this club. Make yourselves comfortable. First drinks on the house for you. Just yell if you need anything else.”

"Michel said Sam's gay and that guy over there," Tony nodded towards a tall blonde guy talking with Sam, "is his husband. Most of the crowd here's LGBT, apparently."

Their table was right up front from the stage where a live band, complete with gelled-up pompadours and Ducktails, was already playing hits from the 50s.

“I don’t know any of these songs,” Abby remarked as they took their seats.

“Told ya,” McGee said.

“I mean I don’t know the lyrics but I’m familiar with the sound. Ooh, and there’s the Fonz and Elvis.” She pointed the band members.

A new number started up just as the team were seated.

“Good Evening, ladies and gentlemen.” the band’s lead singer greeted the audience. “Welcome to Key West’s Tribute to American Bandstand!” The crowd cheered and applauded. “In 1961, this song sold more than a million copies, earning them a gold disc. It’s quintessential Doo-Wop and one of many we’ll be singing tonight. Boys and Gals… tonight’s the night you’re going to Fall. In. Lurrve.” The crowd cheered as the Doo-Wop classic started up.

_**Dum, doobie dum, whoa-oh,** _

_**Doobie, doobie dum doobie dum, whoa-oh,** _

_**Doobie, doobie dum, doobie dum, whoa-oh,** _

_**Tonight I fell in love, whoa-oh.** _

 

Ziva reached across the small table to Tony. “Hey, Tony. I can see why you like Doo-Wop. They sing about you.” She sang along with the band – “doobie doobie DUMB doobie DUMB whoa-ohh!”

“Glad to afford you such amusement, Zivahh!” Tony reached out and gave her a head slap. “I love this song.”

 

_**Tonight, tonight I fell in love, I want the stars above** _   
_**To know tonight I fell in love.** _   
_**Tonight, I gave my heart away to love that can stay** _   
_**'Cause tonight I fell in love.** _   
  
_**Oh what a wonder, this magic spell I'm under!** _   
_**This feeling that I feel, is it really real?** _   
_**My heart beats so fast, I pray that it will last** _   
_**'Til the end of time.** _   
  
_**Dum, doobie dum, whoa,** _

_**Doobie, doobie dum doobie dum, whoa,** _

_**Doobie, doobie dum, doobie dum, whoa,** _

_**Tonight I fell in love, whoa** _

  
_**Tonight, oh may it last forever, forever and ever.** _   
_**Yes, tonight I fell in love.** _   
_**Yes, tonight I fell in love** _   
_**Yes, tonight I fell in love.** _   
_**Whoa** _

 

“Aw, look, Tim.” Abby tugged at McGee. “Gibbs is smiling and tapping his feet. I’ve never seen Gibbs tap his feet.”

“I’ve never seen Gibbs listening to music,” McGee said, fascinated at the sight of his boss looking so relaxed.

“Just because we don’t see certain things about Gibbs doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.” Abby chided him. “That’s what this project’s all about.”

McGee sighed, worried about Abby’s ‘gut feel’ concerning Tony and Gibbs but nevertheless settled down to listen and enjoy himself, not wanting to be a wet blanket.

Several more Doo-Wop hits were played and the entire crowd at Retrophxia were now fully into it.

“Where’s Tony going?” Ziva asked Gibbs as the band took a short break.

“Head,” Gibbs replied.

Tony didn’t return until the band came back on stage. He hailed the waiter and ordered another round of drinks for everyone.

“We’ll buy this one, Tony.” Louise offered.

Kelly, the lead singer came up to the edge of the stage, mike in hand, the other hand smoothing over his pompadour. Behind him, his band gave him a soulful ‘ooo-wah’ background accompaniment as Kelly addressed the audience.

“Have you ever felt like a vital piece of you went missing when someone you cared about very deeply left suddenly? ( _ooo-oooowah…_ ) Have you ever thought that, when you walked away, he’d feel it more than you ever thought possible? ( _ooo-oooowah…_ ) If you didn’t then this song is for you.” Kelly pointed at Gibbs. Then swung away to the crowd, “or anyone of you out there - who left someone bereft when you walked out on him --” Kelly swung back to Gibbs. “-- and the team.” ( _ooo-oooo…ooo_ )

 _Huh?_ McGee turned to look at Tony, a puzzled frown on his face. “Is he referring to –”

“Shh, McGee.” Tony held his index finger to his lips. Michel was turning out to be very helpful after all. Or after a big tip.

 “From Philadephia, Pennsylvania,” Kelly announced.  “Lee Andrews & the Hearts’ 1957 classic, Long and Lonely Nights.”

_**Long, long and lonely nights** _   
_**I cry my eyes out over you** _   
_**Wond'ring if I did right** _   
_**And why you left me with a broken heart** _

__

**Oh, long, long and lonely nights  
Oh, how I miss you, my dear  
Please, please, come back to me**   
**How I wish you were here**

__

**As I go along my lonely way I visualize your face**   
**When I pass through (yeah) my doorway**   
**What's left for me to face**

****

**_Oh, long, long and lonely nights  
_ I guess you're never coming home**   
**Long, long and lonely nights**   
**Ever since you've been gone**

 

Six rather worried faces stared at Tony and Gibbs as Kelly and the Keys crooned the lyrics.

“Where’s Tony going again?” Ziva asked McGee as Tony got up and left in the middle of the song.

“I don’t know but I wish he could have warned us,” McGee muttered. _What the hell was Tony thinking! Pulling a stunt like this._

“Omigod.” Abby sucked in a breath then exhaled. “He’s referring to Mexico, isn’t he? Omigod.” She peeked at Gibbs who was staring up at the stage like he was frozen in place. “Ooh, Tony. I hope you know what you’re doing,” She muttered under her breath.

Louise did not know the details behind Gibbs’ departure to Mexico but she did hear from Ducky that the one most affected was Tony. Unlike Abby, who had made no pretense of her emotional fallout, Tony had buried it though no one was fooled. On the contrary, he’d gained a lot of respect from the rest of his colleagues even as he led the team while as heartbroken as Abby.

‘Abandoned’ was how Ducky had described Tony as feeling. Louise wondered if Gibbs had any idea. Oh well, unless the man was irredeemably obtuse, he should after tonight.

“And now, ladies and gentleman, we have a very special guest performance, singing what has become known as one of the best heartbreak ballads ever recorded. Tony DiNozzo! Singing the Skyliners’ hit, Since I Don’t Have You! Ladies and gentlemen, give Tony a big hand!”

The audience erupted as Tony came out onto the stage.

“Omigod, McGee!” Abby gripped McGee’s arm. “McGee! Timmeee! Tony’s going to sing?”

“Yowch, Abs. Let go.” McGee rubbed his forearm. “Oh boy. I’m so outta here.”

The sad notes floated over the audience and the ones standing were swaying to the band’s back-up vocals. Tony fixed his eyes on Gibbs and began to sing the haunting song of love and loss. Falsetto and all.

 

_**I don't have plans and schemes,**  
 **And I don't have hopes and dreams,**  
 **I-I-I don't have anything**  
 **Since I don't have you.** _ Tony looks at Gibbs. _  
  
I **don't have fond desires,**_ _Tony looks away to the audience_  
And I don't have happy hours,  
I-I-I don't have anything  
Since I don't have you. Tony swings back to Gibbs.

“Omigod, Timmy.” Abby’s eyes teared up. “He is in love with him, Tim.” She looked across her team mates at Gibbs. _  
  
 **I don't have happiness, and I guess**  
 **I never will again.**  
 **When you walked out on me,**  
 **In walked old misery,**  
 **And he's been here since then.** _ Tony switches back to the audience.  
 _  
 **I don't have love to share,**  
 **And I don't have one who cares.**  
 **I-I-I don't have anything**  
 **Since--I don't--have--**_ Back to Gibbs _  
 **You, you, you, you**_  
 __ **You, you, you, you**  
 **You, you, you, you**  
(Yo-o-o-o-o-o-o-ou)

Tony’s eyes remain on Gibbs.

 

 

Gibbs was stunned. He wasn’t much of a talker but even if he was, this stunt that Tony pulled would still have rendered him speechless.

Tony, back from his impromptu number, was laughing and clowning around. Like the Tony of old. Like he hadn’t just done something totally incredible. He fielded congratulations from the crowd and Gibbs saw several women – and men – pass him notes. _Phone numbers, of course._

What kind of dumb joke was Tony pulling now? Gibbs looked at his people. None of them were looking at him, all joining in to compliment Tony on his vocals.

The band played on, interspersed with Kelly’s info on the songs being played and anecdotes about the Doo-Wop groups that released them.

“And before we call it a night, here’s Tony again, singing Lee Andrews and the Heart’s Try The Impossible specially forrrr…!” [ _Drumroll]._ “Ducky and Louise! Come on up here with Tony.” Kelly held out his hand to Louise to escort her up the three steps to the stage as Tony took the mike from him. Ducky followed Louise up on stage.

Once again, the band struck up the opening notes and Tony launched into the song, his rich, smooth tenor bringing on a fresh round of applause and loud squeals from Abby who was now bouncing on her seat. McGee tried to disappear into his.

 

 _ **Try the impossible. Try to understand,**_  
 _ **The way I feel about you-ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo.**_  
 _ **(Ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo.)**_  
 _ **Try the incredible. For in trying,**_  
 _ **All of my dreams might come true.**_  
  
 _ **Try to understand,**_  
 _ **You're everything I ever hoped for.**_  
 _ **(Ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo.)**_  
 _ **And if you try to make it survive,**_  
 _ **Take my heart, it will be yours.**_  
Tony, who had been looking at, and singing to, Ducky and Louise, switches his gaze to Gibbs as he sings the next set of lyrics.

_**I really mean it when I tell you** _   
_**I'll be at your beck and call.** _   
  
_**Tell me you want me,** _   
_**And our love will conquer all.** _

_**The need for you, just to be with you,** _   
_**Is the reason why I plead to you,** _   
_**Make the impossible the incredible,** _

_**And all of my dreams come true.**_  
“And here are the Doo-Wop sounds for Zeevahh!” Tony points his mike at his team mate.  
 _ **(Oh, wee-ew, wee-ew, wee-ew.) (Doo-doo, doo-doo-doo.)**_  
 _ **(Ooo-wee-ew wee-ew wee-ew.)**_  
He swings back to Gibbs who is piercing him through with his blue eyes and an enigmatic expression on his face.  
 _ **(I really mean it) when I tell you,**_  
 _ **I'll be at your beck and call.**_  
 _ **(Ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo.)**_  
 _ **Tell me you want me,**_  
 _ **And our love will conquer all.**_  
  
 _ **Oh, the need for you, just to be with you,**_  
 _ **Is the reason why I plead to you,**_  
 _ **Make the impossible the incredible,**_  
 _ **And all of my dreams come true.**_

Tony swings back to Ziva as he, and the back-up singers sing, _**(Oh, wee-ew, wee-ew, wee-ew.) (Doo-doo, doo-doo-doo.)**_  
 _ **(Ooo-wee-ew wee-ew wee-ew.)**_

 

 

 

* * * * *

 

Tony hadn’t planned on doing what he did but earlier, when he and Michel were waiting for everyone so they could leave for the sunset cruise, Michel had heard him sing a few lines of the Skyliners’ If I Don’t Have You.

“You have a good voice,” Michel had told him. “This place, I told you about, Retrophyxia, they let guests come up and sing a few numbers – if you’re good. If you like, I can fix up a couple of slots for you.”

Tony had been surprised but karaoke wasn’t anything new to him. It was required whenever he and his frat brothers went out on the town. Back when he did that, of course. Not anymore.

“Mmm. A little rusty, these old pipes.” Tony cleared his throat.

“Would be one way to hint to your man how you feel.” Michel winked. When he saw Tony’s expression, he laughed. “Trust me, Tony. Your Gibbs has it bad for you. I can understand his reticence though…he being your superior an’ all. But hey, if you can’t say it, _sing_ it. Smarter than grabbing and kissing him. That might just get your face broken if he’s really straight.”

“That,” Tony jabbed Michel in the chest. “You’re right about. My life wouldn’t be worth living if I was going to be that dumb as to proposition the Great-and-Very-Straight Leroy Jethro Gibbs.” He gave a shudder and walked off towards their vehicle. The others were already coming out of the house and looking for Michel.

“Hey. Gotta find out eventually, right? Might as well be tonight,” Michel had said to Tony, catching up with him. “Just let me know which songs and I’ll pass it on to Kelly, the lead singer.”

 

 

 

  
* * * * *

 

And now, in hindsight, it _was_ a dumb idea. _Dumb_ doobie doobie _dumb_ , indeed. He’d seen Gibbs get up from his seat as he sang the last couple of lines and watched him head towards where the restrooms were.

When Tony finished the song to applause and whistles and Kelly bid them all goodnight, Gibbs had not returned to their group.

“McGee,” Tony called to his colleague. “See if you can locate Gibbs.”

McGee’s eyes widened. “Do I have to?”

“Yes, Tim. I’ll get Michel and have him bring the car round.” He pulled out his phone, shooing McGee off. “Hi. We’re ready to leave. What? No, I don’t think it worked. I don’t know why I listened to you.”

“Gibbs is at the bar,” McGee said. “I’ll get him and meet you outside. C’mon, Abs.”

“Wait,” Abby said. “I want to talk to Tony a bit.”

“Wow, Tony. Just wow.” Abby grabbed Tony’s arm.

“Like my voice, huh?” Tony preened a bit. “Elvis Presley I may not be but…not too shabby, was I?”

“Tony. What you did…” Abby paused. “Singing to him…”

Tony stilled. Here it comes. Tonight’s the night, he’d said to his thumping heart when he’d thought about the ramifications of what he was about to do.

“Singing to who?”

“C’mon, Tony. This is me you’re talking to. Tell me what’s going on. I mean I know what’s going on but I want to hear it from you.”

“If he’d not left before I even finished my song, there might be something to tell, Abs,” Tony muttered, searching for McGee. He spotted him at the end of the long bar talking to Gibbs who was tossing back his drink. He saw Gibbs give a hard shake of his head and push off the bar counter, walking off towards the exit without even a glance at them.

Tony’s eyes went back to Abby. “Nope. Nothing there to tell, Abs. Let’s go.”

 

 

 

* * * * *

 

It was noisy on the ride home. Everyone was chattering away and talking about Tony’s performance. Tony didn’t feel like talking. He was dreading reaching home, actually. Gibbs had gotten into the front passenger seat as soon as Michel pulled up in front of them and ignored everyone after that.

Oh boy, Tony sighed. Looked like it was going to be one hell of a night. He wondered if he could switch rooms. Not likely. Neither Ziva nor Palmer were going to agree to give up their room to sleep with Gibbs.

What the _hell_ was he thinking, going up on stage and singing dumb doobie dumb songs to Gibbs.  Why did he listen to Michel? That guy was probably laughing his guts out by now, imagining the consequences. Wait till he got the guy alone tomorrow.

Tony avoided Gibbs like the plague after they got home. Gibbs disappeared upstairs while Tony stayed up with the rest in the lounge. Ducky and Louise had retired to their bedroom, leaving the remaining five to wind down in the lounge.

Fight or Flight. Upstairs to Gibbs or downstairs with the team. A no-brainer.

Tony joined the gang in the lounge and was surprised when they were more reticent than he expected. None of them commented on his song choices and the unmistakable fact that they had been directed at Gibbs.

“Look,” Tony began, taking a seat next to Ziva on the couch. “It’s um, nice that you guys aren’t jumping on me about this…but I should tell you, I guess.” He looked at Abby. “Abby seems to know but said you should hear it from me.”

Abby shook her head. “Your choice, Tony, but yeah, after my sacrifice, I’d say a little honest disclosure from you would be in order.”

“What sacrifice?” Tony asked.

“Tony!” Abby threw up her hands. “American Bandstand is – an institution but it’s still hard on the ears after awhile, you know? All that...oowah-oowah thingy going on...just think about how I always have to turn off my music when Gibbs or one of you comes into my lab. Think if _you_ had to sit in my lab all weekend and listen to _my_ music.”

“You got a point there.” Tony conceded.

“But Abby said she was willing to make any sacrifice for Gibbs,” McGee said. “And you.”

“You’re paying for this entire holiday, Tony,” Ziva said. “The least I could do is to listen to music from my grandparents' era though I doubt my even father knows what Doo-Wop is. I enjoyed it, actually.”

“You did?” Tony asked.

“Yes. Especially your singing,” Ziva said. “You have a lovely smooth tenor that’s made for singing dumb doobie dumb songs.”

 Tony threw her a sidelong glare then blew out a loud sigh. “You think he’s mad at me?” No one answered him. “He hasn’t said a word to me.” Tony started pacing the room then came back to them. “I’m insane.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Stark, raving mad. Why the hell did I do it?”

Ziva burst out singing, “Dumber dumber dumb doobie doo dumb dumb”. McGee and Palmer joined her, singing the opening lines of the Skyliners’ song.

“Hey, stop,” Abby scolded. “Be nice. Ziva is excused. She’s grieving and needs an outlet.”

“Like hell.” Tony glared at the Israeli. “You wait till you’re really in love. I’ll get my own back then.”

“Oh, you’re in love, Tony?” Palmer asked. “Who with?” They ignored him.

“Tony.” Ziva laughed then sobered. “Gibbs is not mad at you. If he was, he’d have told us he was flying back tomorrow but he hasn’t. He’s upstairs. Maybe waiting for you…?” A dark brow lifted meaningfully.

“Ohh. You mean Gibbs.” Palmer smiled. “I’m sure he loved your singing, Tony. If he didn’t, he would have left, as Ziva said. “He wouldn’t have stayed. I saw him tapping his feet and smiling when the music started.”

“Yeah, I noticed that, too,” Tony said. “The foot tapping.”

"We all did," McGee said.

“He stopped when you went up on stage, though,” Palmer added.

“You had to spoil it for me, didn’t you?” Tony scowled Palmer.

“But he was concentrating very hard on what you were singing,” Palmer continued. “Like he didn’t want to miss a single word.”

“He’s right, Tony,” Ziva said. “We were all watching Gibbs once we realized what you were doing.”

“I thought it was hilarious,” Palmer said. “When you sang the Skyliners hit –” Palmer sang out the two verses, “ _I-I-I don't have anything…since I don't have yo-oo…_ that was funny looking straight at Gibbs when you sang that.” He laughed out loud. “And the second number –” Palmer crooned the second song Tony had sung _. “_ _I really mean it when I tell you…I'll be at your beck and ca-aall_." That is so you, Tony.” Palmer chuckled away. When it dawned on him no one else was laughing, his laughter faded away. “Sorry. Wasn’t meant to be funny.”

 “I uh,” Tony cleared his throat. “I have some things I need to clear the air about where bossman’s concerned. Been carrying them around for awhile but just…didn’t how to talk to him about them. Or  to you.”

They waited for Tony to continue but when he didn’t, McGee spoke, “One of the things being when he quit and took off to Mexico?” Might as well start there. He knew Tony felt Gibbs' desertion acutely - oh yes, it was desertion as far as they were concerned - but he didn't think Tony was a devastated as that. He did, after all, get to lead the team, didn't he?

Tony nodded. “Yeah. Mexico.”

“Why do you find it hard to talk to him about it?” Abby asked. “No wait. I do know why. I still do it anyway. I mean I throw pebbles at him from time to time.”

“Pebbles?” Ziva asked, puzzled.

“Yes, you know…little things that I let drop about when he left us. Quit on us. Throw them at him now and then. A pebble here, a stone there. Just to remind him, you know, so he won’t do something like that to us ever again. I mean, he just about broke my heart. NCIS is not the same without Gibbs! I  mean, how could he have left us? I thought we meant more to him than that. But I didn’t say that. That’s more like a rock, not a pebble.” She looked at Tony. “ _Yours_ is bigger than a rock.” She chewed on her lip. “Isn’t it, Tony?”

Tony held his head in his hands, elbows on his knees.

“Tony?” Ziva touched his back.

He nodded. “Yeah. It is. It’s a freakin’ mountain.”

“I see." Ziva sighed. "Gibbs is more to you than just a boss, isn’t he?” she asked, her voice gentle. “More than an older brother. More than a friend.” She waited a beat. “You are in love with him.”

Palmer sat, listening in stunned silence, his mouth working noiselessly.

Tony nodded. “Yeah.”

“Um,” Palmer started to say something but seemed to change his mind.

“What, Jimmy?” McGee snapped. “Saw more funny stuff?”

“Um uh, no. Not funny. Uh, Breena once told me Gibbs and Tony belonged together. She seemed to know um, stuff I didn’t even think to think about.”

“And what would cause Breena to think what you’d never think of thinking?” McGee asked.

Tony lifted his head to look at Ducky’s assistant.

Palmer took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. “Well, there was one time, when Breena was waiting for me to finish up. She saw Gibbs and Tony talking. And, uh, when Tony stepped inside the elevator, Gibbs stood there just looking at the closed elevator doors then he ducked his head and smiled.” Palmer looked at Tony. “A real happy sort of smile like you’d said something that made him happy.”

“When, exactly, was that?” Tony asked, intrigued.

“Not that long ago,” Palmer replied. “Just after we solved that serial killer case. It was a Friday, I remember, because Breena and I were going to see a movie.”

“Friday,” Ziva repeated. “You go to Gibbs’ house for dinner every Friday.”

 “Oh yeah,” Tony said, brows clearing. “I remember now.”

“What did you say to him to make him happy, Tony?” Abby asked. “We need to establish some kind of pattern.”

“I uh, asked him if he was up to cooking a steak for me.” Tony looked lost in his memory of that weekend.

“And?” Ziva prompted.

“And he said he didn’t have any but if I’d settle for Chinese and could come round the next day, he’d cook me the best damn steak I’d ever eaten.”

“And?” Ziva asked again.

“And I said yeah, I’d eat anything tonight – that night, that is – if it meant I could come back for steak tomorrow. Because, I told him, he did cook the best damn steak in the world and I’d marry him just so I could eat it every weekend.”

“And?” It was Ziva again.

“And he was true to his word,” Tony said. “He went out in the morning to buy the meat and cooked me the best damn steak I’d ever eaten and I hung around the whole afternoon while he worked in the basement and then he asked if I wanted to stay over.”

“Even after you said you’d marry him?” McGee asked, incredulous that their senior special agent would even say such a thing to their taciturn boss.

“It was a joke,” Tony said.

“I think the correct term is hyperbole,” Ziva said.

“And?” The rest asked, looking expectantly at Tony.

“And what?” Tony asked exasperatedly. “We ate dinner, watched cowboy movies, he worked on his boat while I watched more movies on my laptop.”

“That’s it?” Ziva asked. “You did not talk?”

“No,” Tony replied. “I think that was the night I fell off the couch and hit my head.”

 “But why? How?” Ziva shook her head, the way she did when she was getting all intense about something.

“Why, how what?” Tony asked.

“You spent Friday night and Saturday together and you didn’t talk. Why?”

“We were chilling out together,” Tony explained. “Conversation wasn’t expected. Or necessary.”

“Well, no wonder you’re in the state you’re in,” McGee muttered. “Something’s obviously going on in Gibbs’ head where you’re concerned and it can’t be bad otherwise you wouldn’t be back at his house every Friday after that.”

“And he wouldn’t have come on this trip,” Palmer pointed out. “That’s telling. Not funny. Just telling. _Very_ telling.”

“Like I said,” Tony once again dropped his head into his hands. “I’m insane. And yeah, dumber than dumb. Why did I let it all hang out like that? It’s not as if Gibbs has ever given the slightest hint he swings both ways, you know.” And he'd just come out to his team, though it looked like that wasn't even a surprise.

“We’ll know tomorrow,” McGee said. “If he’s staying then you’ll have your answer. Because what you did tonight was as subtle as a sledgehammer.”

“McGee’s right, Tony,” Ziva said. “Why don’t you go up to bed? If we do not hear a commotion, or bloodcurdling screams, then we know Gibbs is not mad at you.”

“Not helping, Ms. David,” Tony hissed. “If I don’t come down tomorrow, go pick up the pieces.”

“Um, I think it looks positive, Tony.” All heads swiveled to Palmer. “Well, I uh, do.”

“You think the possibility that Gibbs may be lying in wait for me to butcher me for that embarrassing and pathetic performance positive, Palmer? Huh?”

“N-no.” Palmer stuttered but held his ground. “I meant that it bears out what Breena thinks – that you both are a couple but you don’t realize it. However, something’s gotta give eventually, right? I mean if you were only friends in the platonic sense, Gibbs would have behaved just like any of us. He’d have congratulated you, said how fabulous you were and offered to buy you a drink.

“Or, he would have slammed you against the wall and demanded what the hell you thought you were doing singing love songs to him in a gay-friendly bar. But, he didn’t. He behaved like a man who has a secret and doesn’t know how to deal with the fact that he’s now forced to confront it.” Palmer took a deep breath and looked around uncertainly. “Uh, that’s…that’s Breena’s conclusion. I, uh, I texted her on the ride home because I noticed Gibbs’ weird behavior, too.”

“Breena’s brilliant!” Abby exclaimed. “Of course! All we have to do now is push Gibbs in the right direction. You know, like nudge him along.”

“Yes, we throw breadsticks for him to follow,” Ziva said.

“Crumbs, Ziva.” Tony corrected her. “Breadcrumbs, not breadsticks.”

“Gibbs has poor eyesight,” Ziva pointed out. “He can’t see breadcrumbs.”

“I agree,” McGee said. “Breena’s on the right track. I admit when Abby shared with me her suspicion that both you and Gibbs were gay –”

Tony looked back up again. “Gibbs is gay? How do you know?”

“No, I don’t. I’m saying I was very skeptical. A little leery –”

“A _little_?” Abby said. “You thought I was a crazy old bat.”

“No!” McGee protested. “I never said you were crazy.”

“Just old.” Palmer chortled.

“Go to bed, autopsy gremlin,” McGee said.

“Hah.” Palmer grinned. “I haven’t been called that in ages.”

“So, Tony.” McGee resumed. “To make up to Abby for my lack of confidence in her gut, and as an acknowledgment to Breena’s – it’s got to be a woman thing, I’m sure of it now -- Anyway, I’m thinking what Abby’s thinking. That we help Gibbs to arrive at the conclusion himself.”

“What conclusion?” Tony asked.

“That he’s in love with you, too,” McGee replied. “And he’d better be or we’re all dead meat.” He paused, frowning. “Gibbs, huh? Really, Tony? You gay, not a problem but you and Gibbs? Can’t wrap my head around that yet.”

“I can’t wrap my head around the fact that you guys have been discussing this," Tony said. "Or you could even think Gibbs is gay!”

“That was Abby’s conclusion, not mine,” McGee quickly said, ignoring the dirty look Abby shot him. “But after analyzing everything, in hindsight, I tend to agree.”

Tony could only shake his head. “You knew? About me? And about Gibbs? And didn’t say a word to me until now?”

“We’ll see how he is tomorrow, alright?” Ziva quickly intervened. “If he doesn’t come down with his bag ready to leave then it’s very likely we are right about his feelings for you but we won’t know anything until tomorrow so I’m going to bed.” She got up.

Abby and McGee headed for the stairs and  Palmer went down the hallway to his room.

“Aren’t you going to bed, Tony?” Ziva asked.

“Yeah, but I’m thinking of taking the couch down here.” Tony eyed it.

“Coward.” Ziva grinned. “Tony," her grin faded away. "You’ve worked with him since MCRT was formed. You should know Gibbs better than most of us. What does your gut tell you?”

“Hard to tell when you’re personally-involved. That’s why Rule 10 exists.”

“And the one Gibbs himself has the most trouble with.” Ziva reminded him. “He told you that and you told me…when I was involved with Michael. We’ve all been there and done that. And we all have trouble with that rule.” Ziva hugged Tony’s arm to her tightly. “And Rule 10 leads to Rule 11…which I say he had trouble with that one at least once – he may have walked away after his case in Baltimore was over, but he brought you back with him!” she grinned. “That’s cheating.”

“You think so?”

“I do,” Ziva replied. “So as you can see, Gibbs is not only fallible where his own rules are concerned, I believe he’s not inflexible either. He’s accepted Abby and McGee so there goes Rule 12.”

“Ziva…” Tony sighed then pulled her into his embrace. “I’m so sorry about Ray.”

“I am, too, but it’s not entirely his fault.” Ziva looked up at Tony’s concerned eyes. “That’s why you must find a way to get Gibbs to open up to you. Gibbs and me, we’re both very much alike. We don’t open up easily. If at all. It’s worse when we’re emotionally-involved. Ray would tell me I needed to let myself be vulnerable. I thought he was crazy and told him so. He said that to me when he proposed. And actually, he proposed to me three months ago.”

“That’s not what you told us,” Tony said.

“No, it isn’t. The first time he asked me, I did not give him an answer. Then last week, he came over after work and…we quarreled.”

“About?”

“Same issues. He thought I was stressed about something and I denied it. He insisted. I got annoyed and told him to get out of my face.”

“Ah, the fight. Then the making up. Then hot make-up sex followed by a proposal.”

“Almost. Not quite. We fought. Same old accusations from him. Same old denials from me. But something struck home. Something someone said to me, once.”

“What?”

“This person left me a post-it note in my desk drawer. All that was on it was a smiley-face. A hand-drawn stick figure smiley. With a Star of David dangling off her fingers in one hand and carrying a Sig in her other hand. And high-heel black leather boots. I got those post-its once a week. Different days, for five weeks. On the fifth and last note, it had a message – _you’re not the only one who’s afraid of vulnerability. But at least I wear it with a smile. You can, too._ That’s what the note said.”

“Who were they from? Obviously someone at work. Or someone with access.”

Ziva shook her head. “Never mind. Anyway, I remembered what that person said about being vulnerable so I decided I could do it and do it with a smile. I apologized to Ray, told him he could be right about a few things concerning me and I told him if he was willing to give us another chance, I would.”

“And?”

“And…he…there was some hesitation on his part. I recall now. So I remembered what Stan wrote –”

“Stan? Stan who?”

“Burley.”

“What’s he got to do with this?”

“He was the one who put the smiley notes in my drawer. Anyway, I remembered what he said about wearing a smile. And I got what he meant that night. I realized I was far too much of an intense person. I needed to lighten up a little and even when it involves something as scary as being vulnerable, if I could do it with a smile rather than a scowl, I’d be a happier person. Or, at least the person I’m interacting with would be. So after I apologized to Ray, I smiled and asked him to marry me.”

“Wow.” Tony blinked. “Wow. Stan, huh? That sly old dog.”

“Stan had nothing to do with my proposal or breakup. He didn’t even know I was going out with Ray. I never talked about Ray to Stan.” She eyed Tony. “Unless someone told him.”

“No. Not me,” Tony said. “So what’s this got to do with Gibbs?”

“Well, when I found Ray in bed with that woman, he explained –”

“He explained?” Tony looked incredulous. “He _explained_? Instead of getting the hell outta Dodge? The man has no sense of self-preservation.”

 “Why, yes, Tony, he explained. He came over to my apartment later that night. Instead of shooting him, I smiled at him, like Stan said I should do.”

“That’s even more terrifying – that you were smiling. My boys are shriveling just thinking about it.” He clapped a hand over his groin.

“Let me finish. You wanted to know what the connection to Gibbs is.”

“Sorry. Go on.”

“After Ray’s proposal the first time, and my rather ‘cool response’ – his words, not mine – things started to really go downhill and ‘the sad thing is’ – again, his words, not mine -  I ‘didn’t have a clue’. When I asked Ray why didn’t he talk to me, he answered…because I don’t talk; I don’t communicate; I don’t share. He said he thought he could get through this hard exterior by being patient and letting me be myself, to do what I needed to do on my own. But he was wrong, he said. He started to drift away without realizing it and I, of course, never realized anything at all. When I proposed back to him that night, it caught him by surprise then there was the excitement of the vacation and he found himself agreeing to get married. It was only after he flew off, alone in his hotel room – or maybe he wasn’t? Alone, I mean – he realized he couldn’t go through with it. He was going to tell me after the vacation.”

“And the woman he was in bed with?”

“Not even a woman, unless you consider an eighteen year old a woman.”

“No, not a woman, then. So, who was she?”

“He said they met on the flight. She was sitting next to him. So, Tony. I’m saying you need to start being vulnerable early enough. You need to take that chance and talk to Gibbs. If you leave things too long, it rots without you even knowing and everybody can smell the stink except you.”

“There’s a world of difference between you and Ray and Gibbs and me, Ziva. You and Ray were already in a relationship. Gibbs and me, I don’t even know if there’s a first base for me to get to.”

“Garbage, Tony. If you can’t make yourself vulnerable after having worked under Gibbs for nine years, after going to his house every Friday night for almost two years, you will lose him and he, you, if nothing’s done. Somewhere, in  the nine years, you must have sensed something even if you can’t pinpoint it. Or you wouldn’t have done what you did at the club. Some things just can’t be explained. Like Gibbs’ gut.” When Tony looked unconvinced, she added, “look, there’s one way to find out. Take him back to Retrofix.”

“Retrophyxia.”

“Retrowhatever. Take him back and sing him another song.”

“Are you kidding? He won’t set foot inside that place again. If he’s even staying.”

“He will.” Ziva assured Tony. “Sing some song that will tell him you’re in love with him. Then see what he does.”

Tony shook his head. “I shouldn’t be listening or talking to you. You’re even more insane than I am. I’m going to sleep. Down here. On the couch.” He hugged her. “Good night, Ziva. Thanks for sharing.”

“You’re welcome, Tony. Don’t worry. Abby and I will help you get your man.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.”

 


	11. Chapter 11

 

 

**Chapter 11**

 

 

The smell of coffee and bacon awoke Tony, tickling his olfactory senses before the rest of his brain came awake.

He cracked open an eye as the sounds of people moving about reached him. Groaning, he sat up and looked towards the dining room. Everyone appeared to be there, even Michel.

“Good morning, Tony,” Palmer greeted him from the dining table. “You looked so comfy there we didn’t want to wake you.”

Tony wiped a hand over his face and mumbled something about getting dressed. He stood up, stretching his arms over his head, chest bare and shorts riding low on his hips. He gave a loud yawn, eyes squeezing shut.

“Coffee.”

The mug was shoved in his face and Tony’s eyes flew open to stare into a pair of bright blue ones. That were smiling. _I must be half-asleep and dreaming_. Gibbs couldn’t possibly be smiling at me and offering me coffee.

“Gibbs. Thanks.” Tony took a sip of the steaming brew. _I’m awake. This is real coffee._

“Michel brought stuff to cook breakfast,” Gibbs said. “Go on. Go get washed and dressed. “I’ll make you some fresh scrambled eggs to go with the bacon.”

_Real coffee. Real bacon. Real Gibbs offering to cook me breakfast. Maybe I died in my sleep and ended up in heaven._

Tony came down ten minutes later. He’d showered in Palmer’s bathroom last night before hitting the couch but took a quick one, nonetheless, brushing his teeth and combing out his bed head. Pulling on a pair of shorts and a muscle shirt, he ran down to join the team.

Gibbs was in the kitchen, Palmer told him. “Cooking your eggs and frying more bacon.”

“Isn’t it a beautiful day, Tony?” Abby asked, giving a pointed look. Tony was still too groggy from sleep to notice.

“It’s an amazing day,” Ziva said. “Don’t you think so, Tony?”

It was? Tony blinked the sleep away from his eyes and yawned, despite having showered and shaved. _Am I really awake?_

Gibbs emerged from the kitchen with the freshly-cooked eggs and a plate of bacon, fried just lightly crispy. “Bacon just the way you like them.”

Tony’s mind was too boggled to say anything, much less eat.

“Eat.” Gibbs pointed at Tony’s plate with his knife. “We’re going to the beach today. Get some sun.”

Tony started eating, still trying to absorb this strange man who greeted him with hot coffee, a smile. And cooking him bacon - just the way he liked it. He looked at McGee and was slightly comforted at the puzzled look at his colleague’s face. At least he wasn’t the only one wondering about Gibbs’ weird behavior.

Was this what Gibbs was like when he was relaxed and happy? Tony didn’t know. He’d never been on holiday with Gibbs and the Friday nights were just for winding down after a typically grueling week. He didn’t know what Gibbs was like during Christmas and New Year either because Gibbs never stayed long enough. Some Christmases Gibbs wasn’t even around and no one knew where he went.

“Where are we going today?” Tony asked no one in particular.

“Higgs Beach,” Gibbs replied.

“It’s near the Southernmost House,” Palmer said. “We drove by it yesterday on the way to the cruise terminal.”

“Key West isn’t known for its beaches, unlike Florida,” Louise said. “Still, the beaches down the south side are suitable for swimming. Soft, white sand –”

“– imported from the Bahamas,” Palmer interjected. “Michel told me.”

“Don’t forget the sunscreen,” Ducky said.

 

 

*  *  *  *  *  *

 

 

It was a great day for the beach. The sun was out and it was cooler than they thought it would be. Michel dropped them off after letting them know where they could get drinks and hired deck chairs and umbrellas for Ducky and Louise.

“I’ll come back later with lunch,” Michel told them, as Tony busied himself taking photos of everyone.

When Gibbs pulled off his shirt, Tony just about swallowed his tongue. The man was pretty fit for his age, whatever that was. Fifty? Sixty? He didn’t really know nor did he care. All he knew was that Gibbs was disgustingly healthy. And he looked it, too. Our Gunnery Sergeant had some impressive guns. Not _huge_ huge but still eye-catching.

“Wow, Tony,” McGee whispered. “Boss could give Mark Sisson a run for his money.”

“Who is Mark Sisson?” Ziva asked.

“Fifty year-old fitness instructor, author, blogger, former marathon runner.” Tony muttered. “Good thing Michel isn’t here. He’d be salivating all over him.”

“Jealous much?” McGee laughed. “Michel will be back with lunch so that should be interesting to watch.”

“Hey!” Gibbs had gone into the water and was calling them over. “Come on in. Water’s great.”

The guys ran down, including Ducky, all of them in swim shorts.

“C’mon, ladies,” Tony yelled as he raced McGee and Palmer to the water.

“Let’s play volleyball in the water,” Abby said, taking the ball she’d found at the back of the vehicle.

“Sunscreen on, first,” Gibbs reminded them, sending Tony running back to their deckchair where their bags were.

Tony dug out the bottle of Le Tan and ran back down, zeroing in Gibbs. “I’ll do you first.” He told the older man.

Gibbs had already applied sunscreen but he wasn’t about to turn down Tony’s offer. _First or second, I don’t care. Just do me._

Tony flipped open the cap and squeezed the lotion over Gibbs’ back. Tossing the bottle to McGee, he started smearing the lotion, reveling in the feel of the hard muscles under his palms.

Gibbs flexed his back as Tony’s warm hands swept over him then massaged his neck and shoulders. He gave a low moan as Tony moved to his arms, smearing the lotion over his biceps then up over his shoulders.

“Okay,” Tony said softly. “Turn around, Jethro.”

Tony took a deep breath as he stared into Gibbs’ eyes. “McGee. The lotion.” It was Palmer who tossed it back to Tony but the latter hardly noticed. He was trapped by the heated gaze from Gibbs whose blue eyes were now dark with desire. Surely I’m not wrong, Tony said to himself. _Gibbs does have feelings for me. He must have. He’s still here._

Tony squeezed lotion on his palm then dabbed some on Gibbs’ face, quickly covering the skin which was already turning pink.

When he moved to Gibbs’ lips, he found himself swallowing heavily. So did Gibbs.

Tony’s finger brushed along the top lip then the bottom and almost moaned when Gibbs parted his lips.

“Hey, Tony!” Ziva called out. “The lotion, please.”

Not a moment too soon. Tony had been about to dip his finger inside Gibbs’ mouth. Either it would have been bitten off or…he’d get the answer to his silent query. He squeezed more lotion over Gibbs’ chest as well as himself before passing the bottle to Ziva.

The feel of Gibbs’ skin under his palms was indescribable. As his fingers grazed the hard nipples, Tony swore Gibbs sucked in a breath. He knew he himself had stopped breathing and inhaled heavily as he swept down over Gibbs’ pecs and over the lightly-ridged abdomen. Gibbs’ chest was covered with a light carpet of grey and silver and the dusky pink nipples were calling out to Tony. There was no reason why Gibbs couldn’t do his own chest so the fact that he was letting Tony –

“Tony.”

Tony was lost in his own world.

“Tony! Hey.” Gibbs’ hands caught Tony’s, stilling them. “Your turn. You’ll burn.”

“I don’t burn,” Tony argued. “But you’re right. I uh, lost track of time.” A low groan floated out from him as Gibbs went to work on his back then his front. His arms were coated next then Gibbs turned Tony around to work on his face, covering it little by little with his calloused fingers.

Tony felt Gibbs’ gaze roaming over him and hoped Gibbs didn’t notice the erection straining against his swimming briefs.

“Ready, guys?” Palmer’s voice had Gibbs and Tony breaking apart.

They divided up into two teams and were soon laughing, stumbling around and falling on their butts in the water as the game began in earnest.

 Tony counted at least three times when Gibbs touched him. The first was as they got into position and were drawing the imaginary net between the two sides. He’d felt Gibbs’ hand on his back then the slow slide against his skin as Gibbs moved away.

The second time was when Tony fell catching the ball and got water up his nose. As he floundered about the shallow water, Gibbs hauled him up but instead of letting go, Gibbs had slid his hand down Tony’s arm, gripping Tony’s fingers lightly before they parted and returned to their positions.

They laughed, joked and traded good-humored insults with one another. Tony had never seen Gibbs laugh so much before and if he weren’t already in love with him, he would have today. When Gibbs turned to him, blue eyes crinkling at the corners, white teeth flashing in the sun, not to mention that hot bod, Tony was so overcome by the surge of emotion, he missed seeing the ball until it smacked him in the face.

He stumbled and fell on his butt again, to everyone’s laughter. And that was the third time – Gibbs waded over to him and pulled him up but instead of letting Tony go, he pulled him into his arms.

The game had carried on but for the two men, it was as if everything had stilled. Tony could hear the shrieks of laughter from the children playing nearby and his own team mates; the delicious coconut scent of the sunscreen lotion filling the air around him; he could feel the heat of the sun on his face; most of all, the intoxicating scent of Gibbs made him dizzy with desire even as Gibbs let go of him.

Tony swallowed hard. “Jethro…”

“Not now, Tony,” Gibbs said softly, then rejoined the game.

 

 

*  *  *  *  *  *

 

 

The morning went by in a blur for Tony. He did his best to not let his feelings show and thought he was doing a darn good job of it.

Until McGee came up him and whispered. “You gotta get a grip, Tony.”

“Wha—?” Tony’s face whirled to McGee. “Grip of what?”

“Your um, attraction to Gibbs is making itself known a little too obviously for our comfort.” His eyes went downwards to Tony’s crotch.

Tony quickly peeked at his shorts and cussed. “It’s the water. And the scent of Le Tan. Gets me horny every time.”

“He must have noticed it,” McGee said, casting a surreptitious glance around for Gibbs and spotted him napping under a giant umbrella next to Ducky and Louise.

“You think?” Tony squinted towards Gibbs. “Can’t be too bad if he hasn’t drowned me. Yet.”

“Hey, guys.” Abby and Ziva came up to them. “Wanna go to the café for a smoothie?” Tony’s hands automatically went to his crotch as he willed his erection away.

A smoothie and a few minutes away from Gibbs should help so he readily agreed and the five of them headed for the nearby café.

“Well, what do you think?” Abby asked, as they seated themselves at one of the tables outside the cafe. “4.6 for the game?”

“4.5,” Palmer said.

“4.6,” McGee said.

“4.” Ziva threw in.

“Four?” Abby rounded on Ziva. “He hugged Tony, Ziva! Hugged him, touched him. Lots of Tony-touching.”

“It’s a sport,” Ziva argued. “We were playing in the water. Can’t help the touching. We don’t know if it was deliberate.”

“Oh, come on.” Abby snorted. “None of us touched each other. Even McGee kept his hands to himself.”

“Only because I’m saving it up for when it’s more private, Abs.”

“And Gibbs never does anything unintentionally.” Abby crossed her arms. “It’s a 4.8 for me.”

“What would be a 4.9 to you, then?” Ziva asked.

“When Gibbs kisses him,” Abby replied.

“That’s a 5, Abby,” McGee said. Everyone else agreed with him.

“What’s a five?” Tony asked, bringing out a tray of smoothies and an ice-cream sundae big enough for the five of them.

They told him. Tony couldn’t believe his ears. Or maybe he could. You didn’t work that closely with your team as he’d done all these years and not know the way their minds worked. Except Gibbs’. The man, after nine years, still managed to surprise him. “This is not reality TV, Abs.” Tony glared at her.

“But it is.” Abby grinned. “It so is.”

“Actually, Ziva.” Tony looked at her. “I thought the same thing as you – that the touching was accidental due to the fact that we were playing water volleyball. It may not be basketball or rugby but a contact sport nonetheless. “But the third time,” Tony said, smiling dreamily. “There was definitely something there.”

“What?” Abby pounced on it. “Tell us! What did he do?”

“Remember I reached for the ball, smacked it back to McGee and he smacked it back? Right at my face and I fell on my butt? Again?”

“Yes.” Abby nodded, as did everyone.

“Well, Gibbs pulled me up but he didn’t let go. The game went on but for us, there was that…that magic moment, y’know – where the whole world stands still and everything kinda fades into the background?”

“Michael Douglas and Kathleen Turner. The dance scene in Romancing the Stone; 1984.” Palmer rattled off as everyone turned to stare at him. “That’s the magic moment between Michael Douglas and Kathleen Turner! Until then there was all that sexual tension threatening to boil over but it’s at that moment when they are dancing – the music just fades into the background and the two of them hold each other and look into each other’s eyes. The magic violins come on and the audience is brought up close and personal to the emotions running through the two of them. Then they kiss.” He closed his eyes then blinked them open. “Breena and I love that movie.” Palmer grinned, beaming at everyone. His grinned faded away like the movie’s music. “What?” Palmer asked, his face now filled with worry. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No, Jimmy,” McGee said at last, pitying the young man. “Your comparison of the two scenes – Tony and Gibbs and Douglas and Turner – is a great one. That was a fun movie.”

“I have not seen it,” Ziva said.

“Because it’s a _fun_ movie, Ziva,” Tony said. “And you wouldn’t have liked it. You’d have thrown Kathleen Turner’s character to the crocs and –”

“Never mind the movie,” Abby interrupted. “So you were saying you had a Douglas-Turner magic moment. Then?”

“Then I looked into his eyes and he looked into mine – just like in the movie,” Tony looked at Palmer who nodded enthusiastically. “And I said… ‘Jethro’,” Tony’s voice changed to a whisper. “And his eyes just looked right into mine –”

Everyone leaned in close to listen.

“And?” Abby asked, eyes rounded with anticipation.

“And he said –”

“Hey, guys!” Gibbs’ voice startled everyone and they broke apart.

“Hi Gibbs.” Abby greeted him.

“Lunch is here,” Gibbs told them. “I’m going to get some more drinks. Tony, give me a hand.”

Tony jumped up from his chair. “Sure. Water all round?” he asked the others.

“Yes,” Everyone replied.

“Wait, Tony. Finish what you were saying.” Abby pulled Tony back when he was about to follow Gibbs into the café.

“Not now,” Tony replied.

“Yes. Now. Before he comes out.”

“No, I meant that’s what he said, ‘Not now’.”

“What does that mean?” Abby asked, following Tony as he resumed walking.

“I don’t know,” Tony said. “But it didn’t feel bad, know what I mean? I think he meant he acknowledged there’s something between us but now’s not the time to talk.”

“Oooh, Tony!” Abby was hopping with excitement.

“So looks like I’ll have to wait until he’s ready to talk.”

“He may not be ready but doesn’t mean you can’t tell him. I know! Let’s go back to Retrophyxia tonight and you can sing to him again.”

Tony halted. “That’s what Ziva said, too, but again? I don’t know if Gibbs would go two nights in a row. And hear me sing! I don’t even know if the club will let me do that.”

“Go!” Abby shooed him off. “Gibbs is looking at you. Leave it to me. I’ll arrange it.”

Abby ran off, leaving a worried Tony.

“Gotta wait for the fries,” Gibbs said when Tony came up to him and took the bottles of water from him. “What was that about?” he nodded towards the retreating Abby.

“She’s surprised she enjoyed last night’s music,” Tony replied, silently asking forgiveness from Abby.

“Huh. She did?” Gibbs smiled, shaking his head. “Somehow I doubt we’re going to be hearing doo-wop in the lab from now on. Speaking of which –”

“Number 17!” the server yelled from behind the counter.

Gibbs went to collect the fries, curtailing further conversation.

Tony sighed softly, resigned to not getting a chance to talk to Gibbs this entire trip. He hoped he was right about Gibbs not being indifferent to him but that was what sucked about being personally involved. It screwed with your judgment. No wonder Gibbs had a rule about it.

That was part of the reason why he’d set aside his attraction to Gibbs all these years. Gibbs was the consummate professional and while he tolerated a certain measure of clowning around, he didn’t tolerate incompetence or any behavior that could endanger a team member or the case. Hundred per cent focus. That was what the boss demanded.

Plus, Tony had taken it for granted that Gibbs was straight. How could he be anything else? Tony knew about his three marriages and he’d seen Gibbs respond to the overtures made by the women he met in the course of work. Enough women to know Gibbs liked them. He’d never seen Gibbs with a guy or anywhere that smelt gay-friendly.

Yet, there was something there in the water when they’d looked at each other. He was sure of it. Maybe Abby and Ziva were right. Even if Gibbs wasn’t quite ready to talk about whatever it is that could be between them, there was something else Tony could do.

Sing it to him, like he did last night.


	12. Chapter 12

 

 

 

 This chapter was inspired by:

 1) Season 8, Episode 6, where Tony walks into the bullpen impersonating Travolta from the movie, Saturday Night Fever.

 2) when I stumbled on a Youtube clip of Mark Harmon singing ‘Teddy Bear’ on the short-lived series, 240-ROBERT. I love Harmon but his singing (on that show) could be why it got cancelled after 2 seasons…:p

 

Songs featured in this chapter:

 **Bee Gees - Stayin’ Alive -** http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V1e5h9YSe_k

 **If I Can’t Have You; 1977 -** http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sXuX6A5K7O0

**Burt Bacharach’s This Guy’s In Love with You; 1968 (For this story, I rec Ian McShane’s version -** http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PczChLYKC2A

**Paul Overstreet and Don Schlitz – When You Say Nothing At All; 1988. (I rec. Ronan Keating’s version -** http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tsbkk4SZAqA

  

 

*  *  *  *  *  *

 

 

After lunch, they swam and walked to the pier, swam again then relaxed, chatting about nothing in particular. It was like any other family vacation by the beach, minus kids. It would have been perfect if not for the fact that two – or three – of their team were preoccupied with their personal issues.

“Everyone had their fill of sun and sand?” Abby asked. “If you are, Michel can drop us off at Duval Street for some sight-seeing.”

Nobody objected so they gathered their things and piled into the vehicle.

Michel dropped them at the corner of Truman and Duval. “I’ve reserved a table for you at Sloppy Joe’s,” he said to them. “Six-thirty under your name.” he nodded at Tony. “That’ll give you plenty of time to go home and freshen up before we hit the clubs.”

The girls split from the guys and took the other side of the street, meeting up at Sloppy Joe’s at the other end of the famous Key West street.

Tony hung back with Ducky, leaving McGee to poke around in the shops. If Tony hoped Gibbs would say something now that there was an opportunity, he’d have been disappointed. Gibbs kept away from Tony and even kept up a conversation with Palmer.

A text message arrival sounded on Tony’s cell phone when they were halfway down the street.

Abby: _All arranged. You can have two songs of your choice but has to be between the 60s to 80s._

Tony texted back: _You sure this is a good idea?_

Abby: _Positive. Text Michel the two songs you want to sing._

A few seconds later, another text arrived.

It was Ziva: _make sure you choose songs Gibbs can’t miss the meaning of!_

Five minutes later, another text came.

Abby: _what u singing? I love you, Tony, but I seriously don’t think I could survive another doo-wop._

Tony chuckled. He had been shocked, actually, when he looked down at his team and saw Abby bouncing in her seat as he sang. It felt so good to have a family at work, who loved him this much. Just one guy to handle and his life would be just the way he wanted it. He texted Abby back.

Tony: It’s not doo-wop nite. I’m thinking of doing a Travolta impersonation and sing If I Can’t Have U. Give Gibbs the whole disco-Travolta dance moves, finger-pointing-in-the-air routine. What do u think?

He had several replies.

Abby: _If Gibbs doesn’t kill you. We will. NO. DON’T. I’m serious._

McGee: _The object of this exercise is to kick-start a romance with Gibbs, not have Gibbs kick you._

Palmer: _Go for it. Breena will love it._

Ziva: _Who is Travolta?_

  

 

_**Sloppy Joe’s;** _

_**201, Duval Street** _

  

“This restaurant was founded in 1933, the year I was born,” Ducky said.

“Wow, Dr. Mallard. You lived through a World War,” Palmer responded.

“Yes, I did, didn’t I?” Ducky peered at the menu. “Now, what’s good here?”

“The Cajun fries,” Louise said.

“Two orders of Sloppy Boneless Wings,” Gibbs added. “And bring on the beer.” He gave Louise a wink.

The crowd started filling up the place but their food came quickly and the drinks were even faster.

The whole casual atmosphere added to Gibbs’ already-good mood. He’d had a great day and on days like these, he could set aside the pain that losing Shannon and Kelly had inflicted on him.

He’d never planned on falling in love again. Loving once, loving a girl like Shannon, loving the woman she’d grown into, was a one-in-a-lifetime event. He’d made three major errors of judgment and for a man like him, where mistakes could cost lives, that had been a major blow to his self-confidence. Not in his work but in relationships. After his third divorce, he’d sworn off commitments. A quick fuck was all he needed and wanted. He didn’t even have to go looking for it. He knew he was good-looking enough, even at his age, to attract more women than he had time for.

He hadn’t paid much mind to the fact, too, that he found some men sexually attractive. He’d never been one for labels, for compartmentalizing people. His line of work had shown him, without a doubt, that people weren’t black and white, or even shades of grey. They were a multi-hued spectrum of colors. Yeah, a veritable rainbow and it looked like one was over him and the man seated at the other end of the long table.

Gibbs had deliberately put distance between him and Tony, knowing that if he didn’t he couldn’t promise he’d be the professional he needed to be. Already he’d been having difficulty stopping himself from looking up at Tony’s corner every day just to watch him from afar. He’d done this for nine years and had been glad his discipline from his Marine days had enabled him to not indulge in anything more.

Yet, when he was in his basement he’d asked himself if he was doing the right thing. He’d told himself it would have to do be because though Tony was gay, it didn’t follow that Tony would find him attractive or, even if he did, that he’d want to fuck his boss. As Tony’s superior, it would be wrong for him to make the first move. Or any move. Getting involved meant automatic reassignment to a different team.

Then last night changed everything. What Tony did at the club had rattled Gibbs so much, he needed time to process it. He needed to be sure he wasn’t misreading anything. Had Tony even considered the ramifications? Or was this Tony clowning around and just another comedy routine of his. One he thought went with being on vacation.

Gibbs didn’t know why Tony had decided to sleep on the couch downstairs but his first thought was that sharing a bed with him had spooked Tony.

Nevertheless, Gibbs felt something was brewing after what happened at the club. When Tony didn’t come up to bed, Gibbs had been disappointed but at the same time glad to be able to think over what transpired at Retrophyxia and whether Tony was saying what Gibbs thought he was saying.

The time at the beach this morning had almost been his undoing. It had been so tempting to drag Tony off and go somewhere private and kiss him, tell him how he felt about him, tell him things he’d never said to anyone. _I want  to be inside you. And I want you inside me. I want the feel of your cock, your tongue, your fingers, deep inside me._ Even though he was fairly sure by now that Tony found him attractive, going about it without some finesse just might ruin it. His first ex had accused him of that – that he was the proverbial bull-in-the-china-shop. All he knew to do was snort, grunt and charge his way through.

Not this time, Gibbs promised himself and Tony. He might not be a man that talked about his feelings but he could learn to do that eventually.

Besides, talking wasn’t the only way to let Tony know how his boss felt about him.

“Hey, Gibbs,” Ziva shouted to him over the music the live band was playing.

“Yeah.” Gibbs looked up as he cut into his piece of key lime pie.

“We’re going back to shower and change then go to Retrofix again.”

“Retrophyxia.” Tony corrected.

“Whatever.” Ziva grinned. “It’s not doo-wop, Gibbs, but it’s still nostalgia. You will come, won’t you?”

 Palmer frowned. “Retrophyxia? Again? Two nights in a – oww!” A swift kick from Ziva shut him up.

 “Yeah, Gibbs.” Abby tugged on his arm. “That was a cool place.”

 “Sure.” Gibbs smiled. “Will be just the right place.”

 “For what?” Abby asked.

 “To put me in the mood.”

 “For what?” Abby asked again. When Gibbs merely looked at her without answering, she nodded her head furiously. “No, don’t tell me. I don’t wanna know…but it’s going to be a 5, right?”

 “What’s a five? Are you –”

 “Never mind.” Abby cut him off. “How’s your key lime pie?”

  

 

9 _ **.30pm; Retrophyxia** _

  

Some moments could be described or labeled ‘magic’, Tony said to himself, as they wound their way through the crowd. Then there were those that crackled with tension and anticipation; that you just knew would be ones that held your future in its hands.

The latter was what it was tonight. Tony could sense it and he had sensed it in Gibbs earlier this evening. As he’d expected, Gibbs had, again, stayed away from him and sat up front next to Michel on the ride home from Sloppy Joe’s.

When they got back, Gibbs had told Tony he could use the bathroom first. He was going for a walk around the garden to digest the food, not used to eating that much in a single meal.

All of them agreed. They’d not really spared a thought to calories nor their gastric comfort.

When Tony came down, Ducky, Louise and Palmer were already dressed and chatting in the lounge. Gibbs was, of course, having a mug of coffee with them.

“Bathroom’s all yours, Jethro.” Tony poured himself a cup of coffee.

“You clean up nice, Tony,” Gibbs said quietly in Tony’s ear as he passed him.

“Thanks.” Tony blinked. _S_ uddenly, the thought of what he was about to declare tonight at the club, almost had him chickening out. Things were getting a little intense. What if it was too much for Gibbs? _I should lighten things up a bit. See how that goes first before I say it like it is. Or_ sing _it, rather._

“Wow, Tony.” Louise whistled at him. “You’re dressed appropriately for the night. It’s still retro night, isn’t it?”

“It’s retro night every night,” Tony replied. “Different nights for different eras and genres. Thursdays are doo-wop, Tonight and Saturday is disco night and music from the 60s to 80s. I believe Saturday is also disco night and Sunday belongs to Elvis. The rest of the week is free-for-all as long as it’s before the 90s.”

“I must say Abigail has surprised me,” Ducky said. “I thought she was allergic to anything that had a melody.”

“She’s doing it for Gibbs, isn’t she?” Louise said. “She loves him dearly.”

“The affection is reciprocated,” Ducky said. “Though it isn’t hard to love her. Her energy might exhaust me but the world just wouldn’t be the same without Abigail Sciuto.”

“Is her relationship with Tim a new one?” Louise asked.

“Yes. Though they were dating for a brief spell when Tim first came over from Norfolk where he was based.” Ducky took another sip of his coffee. “Romance is in the air, indeed, my dear. Some realized, others just budding –if you play your cards right.” He looked at Tony.

“Who? Me?” Tony feigned ignorance.

“I’ve known Jethro years before you came on the scene, DiNozzo,” Ducky said, looking at Tony sternly. “He’s a man who does not love many - or often - but I can assure you, those fortunate enough to be loved by him are loved deeply and loyally.”

“Just like Breena.” Palmer smiled widely.

“Quite right, Mr. Palmer.” Ducky smiled back at him. “You are extremely blessed with the love of a beautiful and insightful woman.”

“Yes, I know.” Palmer grinned happily. “She’s dying to know how Gibbs’ and Tony’s budding romance is coming along.”

“Hey, wait – wait!” Tony pinned Palmer down with a glare. “Don’t you let Gibbs catch you saying things you have no business saying.” he looked behind him to make sure Gibbs wasn’t there.

“But Tony,” Palmer’s voice had lost its cheerfulness. “I think Breena’s got something there. When we were waiting for Michel to bring the car around, I asked Gibbs if he was enjoying himself and he said he was having a great time. And I asked what he liked best so far. I thought the day at the beach was great. I hadn’t been to the beach in ages…but I know Breena would have picked the sunset cruise.” Palmer chuckled now. “What was I saying? Oh yeah, Gibbs. He said the best part was going to Retrophyxia, believe it or not. He said it was really nice of you to arrange that, right down to the singing. He said he never knew you had such a great voice.”

Tony sat there, stunned.

“Er , Tony? You okay?” Palmer asked.

Ducky and Louise were laughing quietly and telling Tony ‘tonight’s the night’ if he played his cards right, as he’d told Tony earlier.

Tony was still processing what Palmer had just told them when Abby and Ziva came down.

“Wow. Tony! You look fantastic.” Abby circled him. “Love that black shirt. Very voile. Very 70s.” She whispered into his ear. “You know your nipples can be seen through that sheer fabric, don’t you? Gibbs will either freak and head slap you or eat you up. I’m betting on the latter.”

It was on the tip of Tony’s tongue to tell Abby Gibbs had already seen him in the shirt and had complimented him but what the heck. Let Abby have her fun.

  

 

*  *  *  *  *  *

 

 

KC and the Sunshine Band’s ‘That’s The Way I Like It’ filled the crowded club. Most of the crowd were in disco gear but there were several cowboy hats and Wranglers as well.

Oh yeah. It was disco night as well as country, McGee reminded himself. It was a weird combination but that was what Friday night was.

McGee’s eyes bugged out as they wound their way through the crowd. The waitresses were dressed as Playboy bunnies. That wasn’t what had McGee halting in his steps, though. It was the male servers. They, too, were dressed as Playboy Bunnies.

“Gibbs is going to freak,” McGee said. “There are male Playboy Bunnies, Abby!” He eyed the bare-chested waiter in his black, glittering lycra shorts and his pink bunny ears.

“Hefner and his Playboy Empire epitomized the 60s to 80s, McGee,” Tony said. “I’m sure Ducky approves of the bow-tie. As a gay man, I must say they are a sexy touch.”

“Don’t say things like that!” McGee blustered out. “I’m going to have nightmares now of you and Gibbs in nothing but bow-ties and Bunny ears.”

“There’s something very wrong about what you just said.” Tony put his arm around McGee. “You might want to rethink your relationship with Abby.”

“Tony.” Abby pulled at his sleeve. “Sit next to Gibbs.”

They were being shown to their table. A different one but still up the front. Abby was anxious to get everything in the right place, including the seating arrangements. Michel had assured her he’d organized everything and it was now up to Tony and Gibbs.

“No, Abs.” Tony pulled his arm free. “Too obvious.”

“You need to set it up right, Tony.” Abby persisted. “Gotta give Gibbs lots of Tony-touching opportunities.”

Kelly and the Keys weren’t playing yet but music from the disco era was and several people had taken to the dance floor which was located on a lower level to one side of the raised stage. This allowed the audience to watch both the stage as well as the dance floor.

To Abby’s frustration, when everyone took their seats, Tony was furthest away from Gibbs.

“Abby,” McGee said, in the tone which meant a lecture was coming on.

“Don’t Abby me.” Abby said mulishly. “You guys have to co-operate or else the vacation will be over and Tony and Gibbs won’t have the chance to connect.”

“That’s so illogical, Abby.” McGee rolled his eyes as Donna Summer’s Love To Love You, Baby came on.

“How so?”

“If they’re meant to be together, they will get together without our machinations.” McGee looked across the table where Gibbs was sitting and giving his order to the male bunny. He pulled Abby close. “Abs, I think it’s a mistake bringing Gibbs here tonight. Look at the male servers. Gibbs is going to walk out any minute.”

And Gibbs did just that, to Abby consternation.

“Where’s he going?” Abby asked Ducky who was sitting next to Gibbs.

“To the restroom,” Ducky replied. “Why are you looking so worried?”

“Tim thinks Gibbs is freaking out over the male bunnies.” Abby chewed her bottom lip.

“Perhaps we should have warned him this is a gay-friendly club,” Ducky said.

“I’m sure Jethro knows by now.” Louise smiled.

“I dunno.” Abby murmured, her words barely audible above the loud music. The disco hit, Kungfu Fighting was playing now and the crowd were doing the disco dance moves. “Gibbs may be right up there when it comes to crime scene investigation but everything else, like music, he’s um –”

“Abigail.” Ducky patted her arm. “Go back to Tim and relax. What will be, will be.”

“Que Sera, Sera. Whatever Will Be, Will Be.” Louise sang. “Doris Day, 1956.” Both she and Ducky burst out laughing.

They didn’t notice Tony slipping away.

 

*  *  *  *  *  *

 

Gibbs came back a few minutes later but didn’t return to his seat. Instead, he went to Palmer, whose seat was next to Tony’s empty one, and said something in his ear. Palmer immediately got up and went over to sit in Gibbs’ original seat, next to Ducky.”

“What did he say to you?” Ducky asked Palmer.

“Um, just ‘go sit in my seat’,” Palmer replied. “I’d give that a 4.8.” He murmured to himself.

“What’s that?” Ducky asked.

“Nothing,” Palmer replied.

And where has DiNozzo gone to now, Ducky wondered.

As the last of KC & the Sunshine Band faded away, Kelly and the Keys took to the stage.

“Good evening, everyone.” Kelly greeted the floor. “Great to see so many people here tonight. We all love our disco, whether or not you were born when the BeeGees ruled the world. Tonight, the Keys and I will bring you some of their best-known hits and to kick off our night, let’s welcome our guest performer from last night, Tony Manero! I mean DiNozzo!”

The crowd went wild as Tony, impersonating Tony Manero, the lead character from John Travolta’s _Saturday Night Feve_ r, strutted out onstage to the opening notes of _Stayin’ Alive_.

“We’re dead,” McGee muttered. “We are _so_ dead.”

“Oh Toneee.” Abby’s mouth hung open. “Omigod. That’s horrible. I can’t look.” She clapped her hands over her eyes.

“I don’t think that was a smart move,” Ziva said to Abby, pulling her hands away from her eyes. “Look, that wig is so ugly! It doesn’t suit him. But I like the black leather jacket.”

“Ziva!” Abby cried. “This is a disaster. Gibbs will never take him seriously after this!”

Palmer was still guffawing, while Louise was dancing in her seat, imitating Tony’s moves. Team Gibbs may have predicted their project doomed with Tony’s ill-conceived number but the crowd lapped it up.

 _Stayin’ Alive_ segued into _If I Can’t Have You_ and Tony whipped off the wig, tossing it aside.

His eyes fixed on Gibbs, who had sat straight-backed through his Tony Manero routine, Tony sang the song to him.

The team, including Louise, did that tennis match thing with their eyes, going from Tony to Gibbs, back and forth.

 

 _Don’t know why_  
_I’m surviving every lonely day_  
_When there’s got to be_  
_no chance for me_  
  
_My life would end_  
_and it doesn’t matter how I cry_  
_My tears of love_  
_are a waste of time_  
_if I turn away_  
  
_Am I strong enough to see it through_  
_Go crazy is what I will do_  
  
_If I can’t have you_  
_I don’t want nobody baby_  
_If I can’t have you, oh oh oh oh_  
_If I can’t have you_  
_I don’t want nobody baby_  
_If I can’t have you, oh oh oh…_  
  
_Can’t let go_  
_and it doesn’t matter how I try_  
_I gave it all so easily_  
_to you my love_  
  
_To dreams that never will come true_  
_Am I strong enough to see it through_  
_Go crazy is what I will do_  
  
_If I can’t have you_  
_I don’t want nobody baby_  
_If I can’t have you, oh oh oh oh_  
_If I can’t have you_  
_I don’t want nobody baby_  
_If I can’t have you, oh oh oh_

“Abby,” McGee leaned into her. “Believe it or not, I think our Tony has managed to salvage the operation. Look at Gibbs.”

“I know.” Abby hugged herself. “He’s got that smile on and his foot’s tapping.” She whispered in McGee’s ear. “Omigod. He’s singing along.”

McGee glanced discreetly at the man next to Abby. “He is,” he whispered back. “He knows the lyrics. How about that.”

“See. Told you this was a brilliant idea.” Grinning happily, Abby settled down to watch her beloved couple.

Applause for Tony died away as Kelly and the Keys launched onto another Bee Gees number. When the third Bee Gees song started and Tony still hadn’t returned to his seat, Abby got worried again. She looked around for him but couldn’t see him anywhere.

“Where’s Tony?” Gibbs asked.

“I don’t know, Gibbs,” Abby replied.

“I’ll go look for him.” McGee offered. “He might be still backstage. You know Tony. He’s naturally inquisitive and likely checking out props and costumes.”

“As long as he doesn’t come prancing out on stage as _Tiny Tim_ singing _Tiptoe Through the Tulips_ ,” Gibbs said.

“Who’s Tiny Tim?” Abby and Ziva both asked.

McGee ran a check on his i-Phone. “Eccentric singer, famous for his falsetto renditions, especially _Tiptoe Through The Tulips_ in 1968.” He showed Abby the picture of the now-deceased singer.

Abby blinked her large green eyes. “If Tony does _that_ , I’ll kill him.”

“Don’t worry, Ziva would record it on her i-Phone and play it for the entire agency. I think the thought alone would stop Tony.”

“And nowwww –” Kelly announced as the disco beat gave way to softer notes. “We pay tribute to the great composers of the 60s through to the 80s. Artists like Carly Simon, Linda Ronstadt, The Mamas and the Papas and a composer whose music has endured longer than the movies they were featured in – except for Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. Both the movie and the Bacharach song were hits. Guys and dolls, give a hand to Tony DiNozzo as he sings another famous Bacharach hit. This time, as a special tribute to his very own special man – let’s welcome Tony DiNozzo!

As the audience broke into applause and catcalls, Team Gibbs waited with bated breath. Surreptitious looks were cast towards their boss but Gibbs remained immobile in his seat.

The notes to the familiar Bacharach number began and Louise sighed. “Ah, Ducky. One of my favorites and I _love_ Bacharach.”

Tony stood directly in front of Gibbs this time and looked straight at his boss as he started to sing…

  

 

**Y _ou see this guy, this guy’s in love with you_**

Tony points to himself then to Gibbs, following the lyrics.  
**_Yes I’m in love who looks at you the way I do_**  
**_When you smile I can tell we know each other very_** ** _well_**  
 Gibbs starts smiling. He can’t help it. Tony knows just how to reach him.

**_How can I show you_ **

**_I’m glad I got to know you ‘cause_**  
**_I’ve heard some talk they say you think I’m fine_  **                       

Tony points to Abby and the two agents.

 **  
_Yes, I’m in love and what I’d do to make you mine_**  
**_Tell me now is it so don’t let me be the last to know_**  
Please show me Abby’s right, Tony pleads silently.  
_My hands are shaking don’t let my heart keep_  
_breaking ‘cause_

 Gibbs wants to jump up on stage and tell Tony he’ll never break his heart. **  
**

**_I need your love, I want your love_ **  
**_Say you’re in love, in love with this guy, if not_**  
**_I’ll just die_**

I am, Tony. I am.

 **_Tell me now is it so don’t let me be the last to_ **  
**_know_**

 You won’t, Tony. Gibbs promises him.

 _**My hands are shaking don’t let my heart keep** _  
**_breaking ‘cause_ **  
**_I need your love, I want your love_ **  
**_Say you’re in love, in love with this guy if not_ **  
**_I’ll just die…_ **

  

 

“Timmy.” Abby clutched at McGee’s arm. “That’s a 5 from Tony. Gibbs had better come through. Tony’s laid his heart on his sleeve for the whole of Key West, ‘live’.”

“Well, Abs.” McGee loosened her fingers. “If Gibbs doesn’t then I guess he doesn’t deserve Tony.”

“Ooh, wash your mouth out, McGee. Gibbs deserves the best!”

“And that’s Tony?” McGee frowned. “What about me? I’m supposed to be the best.”

“You are. To me. I’m talking about Gibbs.”

“Gibbs just left.”

Abby whirled round in her seat to find Gibbs’ chair empty. “Where did he go?” She asked Ducky. Louise and Palmer shrugged.

“I see him,” Palmer said. “He’s at the bar. With Michel.”

Everyone turned to follow Palmer’s eyes. There was Gibbs standing against the bar counter saying something to Michel who was nodding and smiling. The barman pushed a glass to him and Gibbs paid. Michel left.

“Where’s Gibbs?” Tony asked, returning to the group at last.

“Tony!” Abby squealed and hugged him as Kelly and the Keys played more hits from the hippy and psychedelic era of the 60s and 70s.

Tony looked around the club and spotted Gibbs who lifted his glass at him but otherwise made no move to return to them.

“Doesn’t look like it worked,” he said glumly. “Should I start writing out my resignation letter?” He sat down heavily.

“Tony,” McGee came and squatted in front of Tony, pulling him close so Tony could hear him. “You know Gibbs isn’t one for words or PDAs. Wait and see what he says when we get home.”

“And this time,” Ziva added. “You should sleep in your room. You’ve already let it all hang out tonight so no point avoiding the inevitable.”

“Easy for you to say,” Tony muttered.

 

*  *  *  *  *  *

 

 The team settled back in their seats as Kelly and his band launched into the Bobbie Gentry hit, _I’ll Never Fall In Love Again._

 “Singing the words right out of mouth,” Tony said, gloomily, and sang along.

 _What do you get when you fall in love?_  
_A guy with a pin to burst your bubble_  
_That’s what you get for all your trouble_  
_I’ll never fall in love again_  
_I’ll never fall in love again_

 

He didn’t even notice when the music changed to country and Kelly put on a cowboy hat.

“Our next genre of music is one that was born in the rural regions of the Southern States and evolved to spawn several subgenres and styles. Keith Whitley’s _When You Say Nothing At All_ went to the top of the Billboard Hot Country Singles chart on Christmas Eve of 1988. Before we take a fifteen minute break, here to sing his version for the man _he’s_ in love with is Leroy Jethro Gibbs and yes, that is his real name. Is it country or what.”

“OMIGAWD!” Abby screeched and jumped to her feet. “GIBBS! GIBBS! GIBBS!”

Tony blinked and looked around. “Where am I? McGee. We’ve been abducted by aliens.”

“I – I, uh…” McGee’s mouth hung open as Gibbs came out on stage, grabbed a guitar from one of the band members and hopped up onto the stool Kelly brought out for him.

“I’m not a man of many words,” Gibbs began. “Just say what’s necessary but sometimes not even that. Hopefully, the words in this song will rectify that and convey what I wanna say to the man in question.”

Gibbs played the opening strains of _When You Say Nothing At All_. “I’ve changed some of the words, I hope y’all won’t mind.” He looked at Tony, “DiNozzo! Heads up. I ain’t doing this again. Palmer, put that cell phone away.”

Tony looked up, unable to believe what he was seeing.

And so Leroy Jethro Gibbs did something he’d never done before and likely never would again.

 

 **_It’s amazing how I can speak right to your heart_ **  
**_Without saying a word, I can light up the dark_**  
**_Try as I may I could never explain_**  
**_What you hear when I don’t say a thing_**

 **_Chorus:_ **  
**_The smile on my face lets you know that I need you_**  
**_There’s a truth in my eyes saying I’ll never leave you_**  
**_A touch of my hand says I’ll catch you whenever you fall_**  
**_But I say it best when I say nothing at all_**  
****  
**_All day long I can hear people talking out loud_**  
**_But when you hold me near, you’ll drown out the crowd_**  
**_Old Mr. Webster could never define_**  
**_What’s being said between your heart and mine_**

 **_The smile on my face lets you know that I need you_ **  
**_There’s a truth in my eyes saying I’ll never leave you_**  
**_A touch of my hand says I’ll catch you whenever you fall_**  
**_But I say it best when I say nothing at all._**

  

“McGee. That’s a 10!” Abby jumped up from her seat, punching the air then rushing around to each of her colleagues. “It’s a 10! It’s a 10!”

“What on earth is she yelling about?” Ducky asked. “What’s a ten?”

“Oh uh, we were rating the behavior of Tony and Gibbs,” Palmer replied. ‘One to five with five being the highest indicator that one has feelings for the other.”

“So shouldn’t that,” Ducky nodded towards Gibbs who had come to end of his song and the applause had started up. “—be a five?”

“Gibbs on stage?” Palmer looked askance at Ducky. “Making a public declaration of love to DiNozzo?”

“Hmph. You’re right. Ten it is. Though I’m a little concerned as to what comes next. I hope this song signals the end of their indirect communiqué and they’ll start speaking plainly to each other from now on.”

“I think they will, Dr. Mallard.” Palmer gestured towards the retreating duo. “They’re leaving. Together. Hand in hand.”

 

\---------------------

TBC

\---------------------

 

Mark Harmon singing: [https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dxlGvxsGBg4&feature=youtu.be](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dxlGvxsGBg4&feature=youtu.be)

(Thank you, Cherubino, for the link)

 


	13. Chapter 13

 

 

   
_**Back at the Eagle’s Nest** _

 

Tony had barely gotten in their bedroom when Gibbs shut the door and locked it.

“Jethro –”

“Not now, Tony.” Gibbs grabbed Tony and pushed him against the wall. “Not yet. Let me…” Gibbs cupped Tony’s face, looking at him with such love and desire. It felt like a wave rushing out of those blue eyes, drowning Tony.

“Look at you…” Gibbs’ gaze roamed over Tony’s face, his lips so close that Tony felt the kiss of Gibbs’ breath ghosting over his skin.

Tony swallowed heavily. He was pressed against the wall like an insect impaled on a board as Gibbs devoured him with his eyes. Paralyzed with wonder and fear. Wonder that the man devouring him with that heated gaze was Gibbs; fear that he was hallucinating and none of this was real.

When Gibbs at last pressed his lips against Tony’s, the latter let out a breath of relief, which quickly turned into raw gasps of hunger.

Tony’s hands shot out to grab Gibbs, his arms encircling him, legs parting to accommodate Gibbs’ hard, insistent body. Tongues colliding and sliding against each other, the two men poured out their long-suppresed desire on one another. Gibbs couldn’t get enough of Tony, ravishing Tony’s mouth, sucking on his lips and tongue, wanting to crawl inside the younger man and take possession of what he knew belonged to him and only him.

Tony was pulling at Gibbs’ shirt, sliding his palms under it to touch skin. Gibbs released Tony to pull his Hanes over his head. “You, too, Tony,” Gibbs panted, lust and desire rippling over his face. “Hurry.”

It had taken nine years for the two men to get where they were now. It took only a moment for them to get naked. Anything longer would have been unbearable.

“We’ll talk,” Gibbs said. “But later. I promise.”

“Okay,” Tony said. “Just tell me what you want and you got it.”

“You sure, Tony?” Gibbs asked, cocking his head.

“More than sure.”

“Everything. From today. Everything, everyday.”

Tony nodded. “You got it.”

Gibbs led Tony to the bed and pulled him down, falling into another long kiss. “Gonna take me more than a lifetime to get enough of you.” Gibbs kissed Tony’s eyelids, his nose, nuzzling his neck as his hands swept down Tony’s chest to his navel. Gibbs felt the tip of Tony’s cock graze the back of his hand and looked down. “Gonna make you put that to good use. I want you to fuck me, Tony.”

Tony swallowed and nodded wordlessly. Gibbs, a bottom? The idea boggled his mind but then this whole evening had been earth-shattering.

“Condom.” Tony croaked as Gibbs’ mouth traveled down Tony’s chest and a hand grasped his aching cock.

“My pouch. Drawer next to the bed.”

“You brought condoms?” Tony shot up to a sitting position.

Gibbs lifted his head. “Wasn’t expecting the house to provide them, though they did.”

“What, exactly, were you expecting?”

“Not expecting.” Gibbs cupped Tony’s face with a palm. “Hoping.”

“So –”

“Shhh. Talk later, remember? Tonight, let’s be for the other what we’ve wanted for so long.” Gibbs laid down and pulled Tony over him. “Right now, just make love to me. Please.”

“Oh God, Jethro —” Tony breathed out.

“Please, Tony,” Gibbs pleaded softly.

“Okay.” Tony searched Gibbs’ face. “Just tell me one thing, please.”

“What?” Gibbs smile, his face soft with tenderness.

“This isn’t just some holiday fling for you?”

“Do you realize what I did tonight?” Gibbs hissed out. “On stage? Does that look or sound anything like a fling? I came out to the team, Tony. For you. For us.”

Tony wanted to smack himself, regretting the show of insecurity. “Sorry, boss. Fuck first. Talk later.” He reached over to open the drawer and took Gibbs’ pouch out. In it were some first-aid items, condoms and a strip of packet lube. “How do you like it?”

“Tonight, on my back,” Gibbs replied. “So I can see you.”

Tony knelt on the bed and rolled the condom over his cock, feeling Gibbs’ hungry eyes watching him. Tearing open a packet of lube, he dribbled it over his cock before moving in between Gibbs’ legs and covering the older man with his body.

Tony kissed Gibbs again, moving to his neck and sucking on the tendon. “Gotta be careful not to mark you,” Tony muttered.

“Go for it, DiNozzo.”

“We’re back to last names, are we?”

“You called me ‘boss’.”

“Habit. You mind a lot?”

“Nope. No more talking."

“Yes, boss.” He fell back on Gibbs’ neck and bit, sucking in the flesh as Gibbs moaned loudly, begging for more.

“Harder, DiNozzo. Mark me.”

That had Tony’s cock jerking happily. “Will mark you inside and out, Gibbs.”

When Tony finally lifted his head, Gibbs’ neck sported two large hickeys. Tony chuckled. “Hickeys are so 70s. Looks good on you.”

“Shut up and fuck me.”

“Oh ho. You’re one of those bossy bottoms, are you?” Tony scooted back down between Gibbs’ legs.

Gibbs raised himself up on his elbows, watching Tony grasp his cock and licking the seeping head. He sucked in a breath. “I’m a bossy top, too. Get used to it.”

Tony closed his mouth over Gibbs’ cockhead and slowly swallowed him to the root. He gave Gibbs a few more strokes with his mouth before releasing the iron-hard cock and started to nuzzle Gibbs’ balls with his nose.

Tony moaned as he breathed in Gibbs’ scent. He wanted to go to bed with this scent and wake up to it. Every night. Every morning.

He folded Gibbs’ legs back and spread his ass cheeks. “Wanna eat you inside out.”

“Don’t need permission. Just do it.”

For the next few minutes, the bedroom was filled with only the agonized cries of Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs having his ass devoured by his Very Special Senior Agent Tony DiNozzo. Tony buried his face between Gibbs’ cheeks and breathed in deep, making raw, guttural sounds of one feasting hungrily on a delicious meal.

Gibbs cried out as a stiff tongue pierced his asshole, retreated then forced its way in again. The tongue-fucking went on until Gibbs was begging to be fucked.

“Fuck you, I will,” Tony panted, and entered his boss in one smooth stroke. “All night.” He withdrew and plunged back in. “And all day.” His hips began to piston. Slowly building in speed as he watched Gibbs’ body jerking back and forth with each hard thrust.

Gibbs’ leaking cock was slapping against his belly and he grasped it, giving it a few hard strokes.

“Ready?” Tony asked, his breath coming hot and quick. “Cos I am.” He pulled out completely to stay his orgasm when Gibbs did not reply.

“N-not…so fast,” Gibbs said, finally. “More. Fuck me more.”

Lifting Gibbs’ legs over his shoulders, Tony lined his cock up with Gibbs’ hole. “Okay. Slow and easy, it is.” Tony watched his fat cockhead breech Gibbs’ tight hole and slip in. Gibbs gasped.

“Easy, boss,” Tony whispered. “You want more? You got more.” And slid in balls-deep.

Gibbs’ breath came in pants as Tony began moving in long, heavy strokes as if his cock didn’t want to miss anything either. Yeah, slow was good, too. Tony thrust deep into Gibbs as the other man cried out with each stroke.

“Faster, Tony. Harder.”

“Thought you wanted slow…but I adapt quickly.” Tony speeded up, feeling his own orgasm building. “Please say you’re ready.”

Gibbs pulled on his cock. “Yeahhh.” A few more tugs and he was spattering his chest with his thick come.

Tony took one look at the raw, open hunger on Gibbs’ face and exploded himself.

Later, after he’d removed the condom and cleaned them both up, Tony curled up against Gibbs with a sigh of contentment.

“Tony.” The name was softly spoken.

“Yeah, Gibbs.”

“I love you.”

“Huh.” Tony clambered on top of Gibbs. “Just so happens I love you, too.”

“Get tested.” Gibbs saw the expression on Tony’s face and added quickly. “I will, too. Don’t want anything between you and me.”

“Sounds serious,” Tony said.

“I am.”

“Sounds like a commitment.”

“It is,” Gibbs replied, hugging Tony tighter.

“Sounds permanent?” Tony ventured.

“It is for me.” Gibbs reached up and swiped the tip of Tony’s nose gently.

“Okay.”

Silence. Then, “I’m not like one of your exes, Jethro,” Tony said, quietly. “We’ve been together nine years. I bet you know me better than any of your ex-wives but we work together and you’re my direct superior.”

“You telling me I don’t know what I’m doing?”

“No. No, you’re the one who came up with the rule.” Tony laughed. “I’m just thinking things might be different once we get back home and it’s back to normal workdays again.”

“I get ya,” Gibbs said. “There are a couple of other issues, too.” Gibbs thought about what Vance told him and about SecNav’s plans for Tony.

“Is it time to talk?”

Gibbs looked Tony over, searching for something on that handsome face. “Tony, you’re a very, very wealthy man. You’re still in your thirties and you’re an extremely good-looking man. I’ll be retiring in seven years’ time and you’ll be taking over the team. The agency might extend my term to sixty but not more. You? You’ve got a lot of good years ahead of you. I don’t want you to feel I’m holding you back because that’s how it might start to feel like, eventually.”

Tony sighed, head turning aside. “I’ve thought about that. Even before tonight. Before we uhh, got it together. I asked myself whether, say if we did hook up by some slim chance, would you be prepared to live with a partner who wasn’t going to be there with you the whole day. Would you be happy staying home, working on your boat, waiting for me to come home. Would you get fed up of me getting home late because that’s how it is. Would you get tired of me getting called up in the middle of the night and oh god! I hate that. Especially in winter when I’m all snug and warm. And now I’d have you in bed with me. Why would I ever want to get out of bed!”

Gibbs chuckled. “You’re not the only one who likes that visual. You know what? I think I’m going to like this Christmas, after all.”

“You mean you’re not going to do the vanishing act like you do every year?”

“I don’t do that every year.”

“But enough that we don’t expect to see you at the office party anymore.”

“How about this?” Gibbs’ blue eyes twinkled. “This year we have our team party at my place?”

“Serious?” The look on Tony’s face was so comical Gibbs had to laugh. “You mean that?”

“Wouldn’t have offered otherwise.”

“Wait till I tell Abby.” Tony grinned. “You’re talking about a real Christmas party? Like having a tree, prezzies, decorations, enough food to feed an army?”

“Whatever you’ve ever imagined Christmas to be, we’ll do it.” Gibbs promised. “Unless we’re stuck on a case.”

“Which happened last year but I’m sure we’ll get around it. No way Abs is going to let this chance slip by.”

Gibbs looked intently at Tony. “So we’re good?”

“We are, if you believe me that I can’t walk away after this. We are, if you believe me that I want this – you and me – to be a forever thing. We are, if you believe whatever issues we have bugging one or the other, we _will_ work something out.”

Gibbs nodded. “Then we’re good. Very good.”

Gibbs couldn’t take his eyes off Tony. In this man was his entire world. No one had been able to touch him like this since Shannon. He was filled with a love for him so all-consuming that it hurt. He’d kept this secret so tightly yet it had been futile. Vance had detected it. Abby had suspected it.

Tony. I love you more than I know how to tell you.” Gibbs brought Tony’s hand to his lips. “I’ll go wherever you need to go. I’ll stay wherever…as long as you come home every night. As long as we’re never apart again.”

“Good.” Tony grinned. “Now that that’s settled, how about you fuck me?”

 

 

 

 


	14. Chapter 14

 

**Chapter 14**

 

 

Gibbs awoke the next morning to someone banging on their bedroom door. Tony was dead to the world.

“Gibbs!” Abby yelled through the door. “It’s nine and we want to get moving." 

Gibbs dragged himself out of bed, pulled on his boxers and covered up Tony’s bare ass with the sheet. He opened the door a crack. “Get moving where?”

“We’re wanna go snorkeling. C’mon, get ready. Tony! Wake up.” Abby pushed open the door and rushed in before Gibbs could stop her. 

“Abby. Get out of my bedroom,” Gibbs grumbled.

“Tony. Wake up.” Abby shook him by the shoulder. 

Tony made snuffling noises and burrowed deeper.

“Tonee-ee,” Abby wailed. She gripped the top sheet covering Tony and whipped it off.

“Hey!” Tony turned, reaching for the sheet, not registering that Abby had already gotten an eyeful of his bare butt. He pulled the sheet up to cover the DiNozzo jewels, groaning sleepily. “What’s happening?” he looked around. “Where’s Gibbs?”

“Here.” Gibbs emerged from the bathroom, dressed in bermudas and a light blue Polo which, even in his groggy, over-fucked state, Tony knew matched those baby blues.

“What are you doing in our room when I’m naked?” Tony asked Abby, rubbing his eyes.

“We want to go snorkeling,” Abby told him. “Well, Ziva, me and Palmer. Ducky and Louise said they’ll hang around the beach and ask Michel to take them back when they’re done.”

Tony sat up and stretched. “We’ll be right down. Get out of our room.”

“Okay.” Abby leaned down and kissed Tony on the cheek.  
“Nice butt, Tony.” She grinned at Gibbs on her way out. “Spectacular hickeys, bossman.”

 

*  *  *  *  *  *

 

Since not everyone wanted to go snorkeling but everyone wanted a bit more sun, sand and sea, they reached a compromise. They’d hire a boat instead of splitting up with some going to the beach and the others going off snorkeling with a crowd of tourists.

Michel, again, had the solution. His brother, Milo, managed the yacht hire division of the business and he’d be able to get them a suitable vessel. He made a call to Milo then showed Tony what was available 

“There’s the 60-foot Hatteras.” Michel showed them the photos from his i-Phone.

“Nice.” McGee smiled. He passed the phone to the others.

“What do you think, Jethro?” Tony asked.

“As long as it’s sea-worthy, I’m fine with anything,” Gibbs replied.

“Okay, we also have a 75-footer,” Michel said. “You can sleep overnight on it. Three cabins. Sleeps six only, though.”

“Oh, that’s alright,” Ducky said. “Louise and I can skip the trip and just explore the town on our own if you want to stay on board overnight. Which sounds like a delightful idea, actually. Jethro?”

“Sounds good, Duck. Tony’s decision, though,” Gibbs replied, nodded towards his senior agent.

“Might as well take advantage of the excellent weather,” Tony said. “If you have a boat big enough at such short notice.”

“How about McGee and I sleep on deck?” Abby asked. “Is that possible? Then we won’t need so many cabins and all of us could go.”

“I would do that,” Ziva said. “It’s lovely sleeping under the stars.”

“I’m sure my brother has something if you’re just thinking of an overnight stay,” Michel said.

“Yeah, an overnighter would be right,” Tony said. “We could go out to the keys, do some fishing, snorkeling and come back tomorrow early evening?”

“That would be fantastic, Tony,” McGee said. “But um, a little out of our budget, I’d say, to get a boat big enough for all of us and to stay overnight.”

Michel tabbed away on his iPhone then showed Tony some photos of the boats his company had. “These rates are weekly but we can arrange something for one night just for you.”

“Now, this is my idea of cruising the Keys.” Tony smiled widely at the photos.’ He showed Michel what he was looking at. “Check if she’s available.”

Gibbs grabbed Michel’s phone off him and looked at the vessels’ specs. “Tony.” Gibbs returned the phone to Michel and motioned for Tony to follow him.

“What?” Tony asked when they were alone in the kitchen.

“Tony, did you see the rates?” Gibbs looked clearly upset.

“Yes, I did,” Tony replied. “I know how much it costs to hire a yacht.”

“That isn’t just a yacht. That’s a _mega_ yacht!”

“I know, Jethro. My father had me hire one a few years before he passed away.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Gibbs growled. “I don’t want you to be your father.”

Tony looked away.

“Tony,” Gibbs sighed. “I don’t want your money to change our lives. Not just yours and mine but Abby’s. McGee’s. The whole team’s.”

Tony looked down at his feet. “Yes. I get you, Gibbs. I am fully aware of the dangers. I lived with my father’s extravagance all my life; since I was old enough to know we had a lifestyle that was different from most people. But you know, the couple of years before he passed away, my dad and I got to know each other better. And it was him who made the first move. What I came to understand was that my dad took risks but they had a purpose. He took _calculated_ risks. Sometimes it paid off, sometimes it didn’t. But this I know – he didn’t waste his money. When he died, he was solvent and he had some money in his account. The rest were invested in ventures which had yet to pay off. Those shares were transferred to me as Dad had willed it and hey, those companies are starting to turn a profit.

“What I’m trying to say is, you and the team are my family and you guys are who I want to spend my money on.” He went to Gibbs, drawing him close. “I’m not my dad. I don’t care for wheeling and dealing but it doesn’t mean I don’t know how to take care of money.”

Gibbs’ arms went around Tony and he said in his ear, “I’m sorry Tony. I didn’t mean to imply that. Guess there are a few things I need to understand and get used to. I’ll be honest and say it does make me a little nervous having hundreds of millions.”

“Well, I’m not, okay? I grew up in a wealthy home. The difference between me and some rich jerk is _you_. And a great mom. She taught me to look for the real treasures in life and you taught me to discern what those were when it would have been so easy for me to get lost.”

Gibbs exhaled heavily. “A mega yacht is still over-the-top.”

“How about this? Once a year you allow me to splurge on the team. Just once a year.”

Gibbs thought about it then nodded. “Once a year, Tony. No more. And we’ll negotiate the fine print when we get home.”

 

*  *  *  *  *  *

 

Everyone was crowding over Michel’s cell phone, looking at the photos of the yacht Tony had picked out when the two men rejoined them.

“This one is an excellent choice, actually.” Michel handed his phone, not to Tony but Gibbs, earning an indignant glare from Tony. Michel caught it but gave a small shrug. “Will sleep all of you comfortably and it comes with servers and a chef. Since it’s just a one-nighter, one steward will do, depending on how much service you’ll require.”

“We can dispense with the servers and chef,” Gibbs said.

“Possible but not advisable,” Michel said. “ _The Lola_ is equipped with top-of-the-line appliances and a full service set for formal dinners. Only the stewards would know their way around it all.”

“And you’ll let us have it for just an overnighter?” Gibbs asked.

“Shouldn’t be a problem. Let me have a word with my brother,” Michel said, walking off to make his call.

Gibbs poured himself more coffee and put his arm around Tony’s shoulders.

Tony turned and kissed Gibbs. “Good Morning, boss.”

“Aww, that’s so sweet.” Abby smiled.

“Is this how you’re going to be greeting Gibbs each morning in the bullpen from now on?” McGee asked, looking uncertain about the prospect.

“That’ll be the day, McGee,” Gibbs growled. “Nothing changes.”

Gibbs’ team looked at him then Tony spoke. “Nine years, McGee, don’t forget. No reason why it shouldn’t be the same. As for you, McAbby, I didn’t even know you guys were going at it for over a month so if you can keep things professional, are you doubting Gibbs – yeah, our Gibbs – can’t do the same?”

“Abby and I aren’t boss and subordinate,” McGee argued.

“We will talk about that, McGee. About Tony and me, I mean,” Gibbs clarified. “Later, not now.”

Michel returned just then, smiling. “You’re in luck. _The Lola_ – that’s the yacht you were looking at – is available. She just returned from a Caribbean cruise so if you’re good with this, you can have her from noon today to tomorrow evening. But you’ll need one steward, at least, and the assistant chef will do if you’re not expecting any special meals. He’ll prepare the fish you catch.”

“Fishing! Yaay!” Palmer cheered.

“We’re NCIS agents,” Tony said. ‘We catch criminals. Not fish. But –” Toy threw up his hands in mock surrender. “Let’s DO IT!"

Michel, laughing, went to confirm the arrangements.

“Why won’t you be able to go fishing with us, Tony?” Palmer asked.

Tony smiled and gave Gibbs a sidelong glance. “Because…Jethro and I have a lot of umm, catching up to do.”

Palmer frowned, caught Ducky’s glare and recovered his senses. “Oh. O-ohh! Yes, of course. Don’t worry, Tony. We’ll catch enough for both you and Gibbs.”

“I was just kidding, Palmer - about NCIS agents not being able to catch fish.”

“Of course you were, Tony.” Palmer grinned. “Wait till I tell Breena about the yacht.”

“So can we go out for breakfast?” Tony asked. “I’m kinda hungry. Jethro?”

Gibbs cocked his head and smiled. “I could eat.” _You_. “I’m up for anything you want, Tony.”

Michel returned, telling them that it was all set. “I’ll drop you off at Key West Bight Marina at noon. _The Lola_ ’s docked there but while I check to make sure everything’s ready, you’ll can have a drink and a light lunch at the marina.”

“Great. Thanks. Breakfast, Michel,” Tony told him.

“Okay, I just need some info from you so I call it in to Milo and we can head for breakfast.”

As Tony and Michel finalized the arrangements, Ziva leaned to McGee’s ear and whispered fiercely, “I don’t know what you’re worried about, McGee. This Gibbs is a much better version. I want to keep him so don’t go ruining anything.”

“I’m not!” McGee whispered back. “But you must admit it’s going to take some getting used to.”

“Right, everyone.” Michel stood. “If you want to pack your gear now, we can head down to Duval for breakfast. You can stroll around after that and get to the marina by noon.”

Everyone got up, the mood upbeat despite McGee’s anxiety over the new Gibbs.

“By the way,” Michel called out to the dispersing group, “all the fishing equipment will be provided, including diving and snorkeling gear. All you need to pack are your personal items and…it’s clothing optional on board the yacht, of course.”

“Clothing optional?” Abby repeated, looking at Ziva.

“I don’t sunbathe,” Ziva said. “Bad for the skin, but I think I can make an exception. And if I’m going to do it, why wear anything but tanning oil?”

“I like the way you think!” Abby linked arms with Ziva and went up to their rooms.

“How about you, Jethro?” Tony asked when they got to their room. “Any objections to skinny-dipping? I mean, these are our work mates, not just friends. You think it’s wise?”

Gibbs put down the shorts he was about to pack in his bag. “You have changed, Tony. A lot. 

“What do you mean?”

“I remember a time when the DiNozzo I knew would have been whooping up and down like a chimpanzee on heat at the thought of getting naked with a couple of beautiful women.”

“Well, yeah, but Abby and Ziva are my colleagues.”

“Wouldn’t have stopped you, that’s what I meant.”

“It does, Gibbs. Stop me, I mean. Not just the fact that they don’t have the right plumbing.” Tony paused in his packing and looked up. “Even if they did, I wouldn’t have.”

“Changed, like I said.”

“It was all part of the act. I uhh, only came out to the team last week.”

“Yeah, I figured it couldn’t have been too long ago. You were still whooping like a chimp over Fornell’s new agent.”

“Hey, c’mon,” Tony protested. “Even Fornell thinks she’s hot.”

Gibbs gave a grunt. “These days, anything female and breathing is hot to Fornell.”

Tony laughed. “Poor guy not getting any, huh? Bet he thinks you aren’t either.”

“What about you? You must have gotten some. Somewhere.” Gibbs met Tony’s eyes. “Any boyfriends I should know about? Exes that might want a second chance?”

Tony dropped his bag with a thud and sauntered over to Gibbs, taking the older man in his arms. He kissed Gibbs long and deep before resting his forehead on Gibbs’. “I’ve not been any different from you, Jeth. I could list the women I saw you respond to, I know just when each one ended. And each time I hoped some miracle would happen and it’d dawn on you that I was the one you’ve been looking for. So while I waited for that miracle, I had some casual dates. Not all of them ended up in bed. Some did and they were great, some I could even have wanted to continue seeing. But I never did because none of them were you. So…no, Jeth. No boyfriends, current or past.”

“Good. Exes and I don’t get along. No matter whose.” Gibbs muttered.

  

*  *  *  *  *  *

 

Everyone was already gathered downstairs when Gibbs and Tony came down.

“Finally.” Abby jumped up from her seat. “I thought I was going to have to barge into your room again. Let’s go. I’m starving.”

“Anyone object to going back to Pepe’s?” Gibbs asked, getting in the vehicle and sitting next to Tony, his arm instinctively going around Tony’s shoulders.

No one objected. Everyone thought it was a great idea. Gibbs grunted and grinned happily.

Abby cuddled up to McGee, a contented smile on her face. “I wish this vacation would never end,” she said. “I love this Gibbs and I love this Tony. Best of all, I love them together.”

McGee smiled down at the woman he loved. Sometimes he felt like he was chasing after a high-speed bullet train but he knew there would never be a woman like Abby Sciuto and he was amazed that she loved him, too.

He’d been extremely skeptical of her feelings concerning Gibbs and Tony but now, in hindsight, he remembered the little moments between the two men that never struck him as anything more than normal care for one’s workmate. First and foremost, who spent every Friday evening at their boss’ house, just sitting there in his basement? Then there were those times he’d catch Gibbs looking at Tony while the latter was busy on a report or checking up on a suspect and Gibbs would be wearing that half-smile. Gibbs never looked at him like that! Nor Ziva. Even his affection towards Abby was different. How could he have missed those wistful looks?

And there were those times when Gibbs would leave breakfast on Tony’s table – smoked salmon and cream cheese bagel and a hazelnut coffee. Gibbs had bought coffees for the team before but he’d never bought one – and food – specially for McGee. Or Ziva.

Huh, McGee shook his head. How could he have been so obtuse?

 

 

*  *  *  *  *  *

 

_ **On Board The Lola** _

 

“You know,” McGee sighed, as he took in the megayacht’s décor. “Cruising’s never gonna be the same again.”

“And we were just thinking of saving up for a cruise to Alaska once we get the new house done,” Abby said.

McGee snorted. “Ice would have melted by then, Abs.”

“Never been one for those cattleships, McGee.” Gibbs entered the yacht’s lounge. “I could get used to this but a simple sailboat would give me a lot more satisfaction.”

“I guess, boss.” McGee agreed. “Depends on what you’re after.”

 _The Lola_ was a 130-foot yacht that could accommodate up to ten guests in five cabins. It came with a crew of seven but because Tony had hired it only for an overnighter, only the captain, an engineer, a steward and a chef was needed.

They were served their welcome drinks and Abby was bowled over when Simon, their steward, handed Abby a tall glass filled with ice and a drink she instantly recognized.

“Caf-Pow?” Abby breathed out. “You’ve got _Caf-Pow?_ ”

“Yes, ma’am. Mr. DiNozzo specially requested that we stock up enough to last two days.”

“Tony! Oh, you sweetie.” Abby flew to Tony and kissed him.” She turned back to the steward. “And don’t call any of us ma’am or sir. Or by our last names.”

“No, Abigail,” Simon said, taking a quick look at his list.

“Abby. Not Abigail.” Abby frowned at the steward. “And that silver fox over there. He’s Gibbs. Definitely do not ‘sir’ him.”

Palmer was videoing every square inch of the vessel and Ducky had become fast friends with the captain by the time the yacht left the marina.

“Zivaa-aa.” Abby stretched out on the sunbed on the upper deck. “This is the life! I don’t wanna go back to the DC cold.”

Ziva laughed, smoothing sunscreen on Abby’s back. “I bet you twenty that by the time we leave Key West, you’ll be itching to get back to your lab.”

“Hmm. I guess so.”

“I know so.” Ziva squeezed more lotion over Abby’s legs. “It’s a good thing, in my opinion. One must guard against becoming jaded.”

“You think that could happen to Tony?”

“If he didn’t have Gibbs, yes. Most definitely he would. And probably wind up dead, strangled in a closet from a sex game gone wrong.”

“Eeww, Ziva!” Abby turned over. “You can be as bad as McGee with your pessimistic perception of Tony.”

“It’s true. We don’t know how much money Tony inherited but it must be a lot or Gibbs would never have let him hire the Gulfstream and this boat.”

“Yacht, Ziva. Don’t let them catch you calling it a boat.” Abby laid back down and let Ziva do her front.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Some nice girl-on-girl action going on here, I see.” Tony climbed up the last step and lowered himself onto the deckchair next to the girls.

“Where’s McGee and Gibbs?” Abby asked.

“Talking to the crew, as is Ducky,” Tony replied. “Palmer is still taking pictures.” He pulled his shirt off and shorts, leaving him in a tight pair of swimming briefs.

When Ziva turned to look at Tony, he was already on his tummy. “Do my back, too, Ziva.”

“You’ll have to wait till I’ve done Abs,” Ziva said.

A few minutes later, Tony felt calloused fingers gliding over his back and shoulders. He lifted his head. “Gibbs. Where’s Ziva and Abby?”

“Gone down.”

“I must have dozed off.”

“You did. Ziva put the sunscreen on you or you’d have burnt.”

“She did? I didn’t even know. Must be tired for some reason. Or just the holiday air. Or the uhh, vigorous exercise that went on through the night. Go, Gibbs. You’re supposed to be old…um, old _er_ than me.” Tony yawned. “Where are we headed, anyway?”

“Cap’n said we’ll head for Sand Key then westward to the Dry Tortugas, cruise out to deeper water then head back.”

“I have no idea where the Dry Tortugas are but I’m assuming they’re nearby and the cap’n knows where he’s going.” Tony groaned and rolled over.

“You been sporting that while the girls were here?” Gibbs asked, looking at the erection straining against Tony’s briefs.

Tony peered down. “Nah. I wouldn’t dare. Can you imagine what Ziva would do the poor lil thing?”

“Nothing little about that, Tony.” Gibbs nodded at the tented briefs. “Wanna go down and check out the stateroom?”

Tony grinned. “Lead the way, skipper.”

“Gibbs! Gibbs! Gibbs!” Abby called out, when she spied the couple. “Come on out here, have a drink with us.” They were all in the large circular spa pool, glasses in hand.

“Later, Abs,” Gibbs replied.

“Tony?” Abby asked.

Tony gestured to Gibbs retreating back. “One hour.” He mouthed. “Be right with you, Abs,” he said in a normal voice.

“Huh. One hour?” Ziva laughed. “You’ll be lucky if you see them the rest of the day!”

 

*  *  *  *  *  *

 

“Mmm…you taste so good, boss.” Tony sucked in Gibbs’ fat cockhead. He released it with a slow pop only to suck it back in again, this time taking Gibbs all the way down to the root.

“Fuck, DiNozzo. If I’d known you could give such great head, I wouldn’t have waited nine years.”

“Mmmph.” Tony sucked hard again and started pumping with his hand. “Yeah. Shoulda fucked me the first time we met. I wanted you so bad my eyes and balls were crossed.”

“Condoms,” Gibbs hissed out.

“Right here.” Tony went back to sucking Gibbs, teasing the leaking pisshole with his tongue.

“Ww…wanted you to…uhh fuck, Tony. Coming.”

“Not yet.” Tony let go of Gibbs’ cock and quickly sheathed it. He swung his leg over to straddle Gibbs before sinking his ass down on the other man, impaling himself in a single thrust.

“Tony! Oh god…!” Gibbs gasped. His hands gripped Tony’s hips, pumping them. “Fuck me, Tony. Yeah, harder.”

Tony’s hips pistoned away as he drove himself down hard on Gibbs’ cock. “Love you, Jeth. Love you so muchhh…uhh.” He erupted over Gibbs, covering his chest with globs of come as Gibbs followed, fingers gripping Tony so hard he’d be sporting bruises for days.

They spent the next hour making up for the nine years. At least that was how Gibbs’ ass felt like by the time Tony entered him for the final time.

“I hate to say this,” Gibbs nuzzled Tony’s neck, “but I don’t think my ass can handle any more action tonight."

“No problema, Jethro.” Tony turned his face to kiss Gibbs. “You can have _my_ ass the rest of the night. Just the night because I expect to be back to plowing that fine ass of yours once the sun rises. You’re going to be walking out of our stateroom as bow-legged as a grizzly old cowboy.”

Gibbs chuckled as he fell back on the bed, sated and happy. Tony wiped off his come from Gibbs’ chest and cuddled up to him, kissing whatever part was within kissing range. He ran his hand over Gibbs belly, moving over the abs to his groin where his cock lay contentedly nestled amongst the salt and pepper pubic hair.

They dozed for awhile and though the hour must have passed some time ago, Gibbs wasn’t hurried. No one came knocking on the door so he got out of bed, relieved himself in the shower stall and took a leisurely shower. He couldn’t wait to have Tony fuck him bareback. To fill his ass full of Tony-come. His cock thickened in anticipation.

He emerged from the bathroom to find Tony still dozing. He slipped into bed and hugged Tony close. “I love you. I’ll always love you.”

Tony stirred. So did his cock, Gibbs noticed. “Unh uh. No more. This ass is closed for the day.”

“How about a suck?” Tony murmured sleepily. “Maybe agree on a daily routine, boss?” Tony stretched. Gibbs marveled at the man’s torso. Long, lean and golden from yesterday’s outing at the beach. He palmed Tony’s pecs, skimming over the hard nipples, down over the ripped abdomen before taking hold of the now-awake cock.

Gibbs chuckled. “You wanna get woken up every morning with a blowjob, do you?”

“Would sure beat the alarm clock.”

Gibbs gave Tony’s hip a smack. “C’mon. Go shower. I’ll meet you on deck.”

Tony gave a loud yawn and stretch before sitting up. “I’m having a great time, boss. Are you?”

Gibbs halted on his way out and turned back to Tony. “I couldn’t ask for more, Tony. But I don’t need this…this luxury. I just need you.”

“Me, too. I just need to know –” Tony stopped.

Gibbs came up to him. “Need to know what?”

Tony rubbed his eyes and yawned again. “Need to know this thing between us won’t change once we get home and it’s back to work. I know –”

“Nothing’s gonna change. I told you,” Gibbs assured him. McGee came to mind. “Some adjustments, yeah.”

“We need to talk to McGee,” Tony said, the same thing occurring to him.

“We will. Go on. Go shower. See you on deck.”

 

 

 

 


	15. Chapter 15

 

**Chapter 15**

   
  
The Dry Tortugas National Park lay 70 miles west of Key West in the Gulf and it was a sight to behold. In fact, the entire journey from the time the Lola left the marina until Team Gibbs and Louise caught sight of the magnificent Fort Jefferson was destined to go down as a memorable one. One that was bound to be the subject of many of their dinner conversations for years to come.

 “The Tortugas,” Ducky began, “were named for the abundance of turtles by Leon de Ponce, the first European to set foot on the islands in the sixteenth century. Since the islands are accessible only by sea or air, unlike the rest of the Florida Keys, we certainly are accessing it in style.”

 “Can we go to the Fort?” McGee asked. “I’d love to explore it.”

 “Go check with the steward,” Abby suggested.

 McGee took off and returned a few minutes later, smiling. “A tour of the Fort’s already been planned.”

 “Did you know Fort Jefferson once served as a prison facility?” Ducky asked, caught up once again in his ramblings.

 “Oh yes,” Palmer piped up. “And its most famous inmate was Samuel Mudd. He was –”

  “Where’s Gibbs and Tony?” McGee asked, cutting Palmer off.

 “Right here.” Gibbs rounded the corner with Tony to join the rest as they stood over the yacht’s railing.

 “I hear you build boats, Jethro,” Louise said.

 “Boats, furniture. Anything with wood.”

 “You take your boats out?”

 “Once. Gave it away to a good friend. Finishing one now.”

 “Must be very different building one with your own hands.”

 “I couldn’t begin to tell you. Even if I could afford a yacht like this, I’d still build one with my own hands.”

 “And no power tools, I’m told, too.”

 Gibbs smiled. “That would be like making a kid through IVF. Works but not nearly as much fun.”

 “Gibbs! Gibbs! The fort!” Abby yelled. In the distance the rust-red fort neared and the team watched their approach on deck. There were several sailboats bobbing on the water near the shore and a small seaplane on the beach.

 “We’ll drop anchor here and use the speedboat to get to the island, Simon said, coming up to them. “When you’re ready to return to the yacht, just go back to the pier. I’ll be there waiting. Say, an hour tops?”

 “More than enough,” Tony said.

 They spent the hour exploring the old fort which, no doubt, would be the highlight of the vacation for Ducky. To no one’s surprise, perhaps, Louise shared Ducky’s love of history and the two engaged in a lively discussion of the various ancient forts around the world.

 “I think the most magnificent ones are in India,” Louise said. “I know, Ducky! Let’s do an Rajasthan fort tour for our honeymoon.”

 “Why, what an excellent idea.” Ducky beamed.

 “Think we’ll be like them in our old age?” Tony asked Gibbs.

 “No reason why not,” Gibbs replied, heading for the Parrot guns.

 The group dispersed, going to their own personal interests. Tony simply followed Gibbs, not really interested in an abandoned building. By the time Gibbs called for everyone to head back, Tony was complaining of an aching back and sore feet.

 “I’m in dire need of a backrub, boss.”

 “Bet your front needs attention, too.” Gibbs grinned.

  
*  *  *  *  *  *

 

  “There’s a wide variety of fish in the waters around here,” Simon informed them, when they were all back on the yacht. We have a fishing license and we can fish anywhere in the Dry Tortugas except for certain designated areas. We, of course, won’t be there. Also, no lobstering or spearfishing but don’t worry, you’ll be catching enough grouper, king mackerel and snapper to keep you happy. And if we’re lucky, we might even land ourselves a Bluefin tuna.”

 “Ooh, I love Bluefin tuna.” Tony kissed his fingers. “Mwah. It’s to die for charred on the outside and medium-rare on the inside.”

 Tony got his wish because they cruised to deeper waters for fishing and, amidst squeals, yells and congratulations, Gibbs landed his first tuna whilst Abby caught a giant grouper with McGee’s help. Several snappers, jewfish and gags joined the tally but all, except Gibbs’ tuna, were thrown back.

 The Bluefin tuna was gutted and filleted by Jess, their chef-for-the-day. Jess set aside what was needed for tonight’s dinner and packed away the rest in the freezer.

 The team settled down for an early dinner on-deck of grilled bluefin tuna steaks as the sun made its slow but steady trek towards the horizon. Simon served the dessert of flambéed lychees in vodka which brought more squeals from Abby and compliments to the chef from everyone else.

 Gibbs tilted the bottle of Bud Light to his lips as the fingers of his other hand played with Tony’s hair. Someone had put the music on – not Abby, because the toe-tapping strains of jazz flowed out onto the deck where everyone was relaxing and chatting quietly.

 “Do you think you’ll be bored when you retire?” Gibbs asked Tony.

 “Kinda hard to say when it’s still twenty years to mandatory retirement,” Tony replied. “But I’d hazard a guess and say much as I enjoyed this vacation, I can’t see myself doing this every day for the rest of my life.”

 “So what would you do when the time comes?”

 Tony gave a long sigh. “Part-time work of some kind. Volunteer work with teens.”

 “Teens!” Gibbs gave a bark of laughter. “Thought you couldn’t stand them.” After a moment of silence, Gibbs asked, “you ever wanted kids of your own?”

 “No. I mean, I never really thought about it. You?” Tony immediately thought of Shannon and Kelly. Nobody spoke about Gibbs’ dead wife and daughter. Nobody. Except maybe Abby or Ducky. Of all taboo subjects, this was Numero Uno. Tony wanted to ask but this was Gibbs. Not your normal boyfriend, lover, whatever. This was the Great White. One wrong move and his head might just get chomped off.

 For that split second the sensation of unreality swept over Tony and he experienced a mild panic attack. Suddenly, everything was happening too fast for him to process; too many huge steps taken in too short a time. What if he didn’t measure up? What if Gibbs found him lacking in some way? Suddenly, all Tony’s long-hidden insecurities rushed to the surface.

 Gibbs frowned. “What’s wrong?” Tony was breathing hard. “Why are you hyperventilating? I’ll get Ducky –”

 “No. I’ll be fine.” Tony took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

 “Keep breathing steady.”

 Tony did and finally settled back on the couch. Behind them the sun had sunk but the horizon was still streaked with golds and purples.

 Gibbs’ hand searched for Tony’s in the semi-dark deck. “You okay?”

 “Yeah.” Tony squeezed Gibbs’ hand. “Sorry. boss.”

 “‘Boss’?”

 Tony drew another deep breath and closed his eyes.

 “Tony,” Gibbs said softly. “Too fast?” His own heart thudded, waiting for Tony’s response.

 “Maybe,” Tony whispered. “No. It’s not.” He amended. “I just need to wrap my head around it, that’s all. I’ve gone through nine years without this…and suddenly here we are. Here _you_ are. Leroy Jethro Gibbs. And he wants me. He loves me.” Tony gave a huff of laughter. “I’m finding it hard to believe, alright? It’s what I’ve wanted since the day we met.”

 “Why didn’t you make a move back in Baltimore, then?” Gibbs asked. “Why didn’t you try to find out if I was gay or bi.”

 “I was tempted to,” Tony replied. “But I had commitments that didn’t allow me much leeway to uhh, step out of line.” Tony turned to face Gibbs. “Why didn’t you?”

 Gibbs shrugged. “Had a job to do. Not my style to go off on a pleasure trip in the middle of a hot case.”

 “Jethro, when you came up to Baltimore, you thought I was a cop with the BPD. I was, but I was there undercover, assigned from another unit. Wasn’t part of the force. That’s all I can tell you for now. I’d left the unit by the time you offered me a job so I’ve been a bona fide NCIS agent – in case you’re wondering. When we get back, you’re going to have to tell Vance about our relationship. I’ll get clearance to tell you about my undercover years. Maybe not the classified cases but it might explain my umm…change of behavior the last couple of years.”

 “Tony.” Gibbs looked out at the horizon. “I know about that. Vance read me in on it but no details. Just that you were working for a separate entity that investigated corruption and crime within the agencies. Internal Investigations Division. When I met you, you were wrapping up your assignment which involved the police force and a couple of other agencies. As I know it, your assignment was over and you were actually on your way out of the BPD.”

 “Yeah, I was, but at the time I didn’t know where I’d be heading and I didn’t want to start something with you and not be able to continue.”

 “Not one for casual hook-ups?” Gibbs thought back to the blonde Tony had left the bar with that night, nine years ago.

 “More friends with benefits, you could say,” Tony replied. “And no, I don’t have any of those anymore. Actually, I was thinking of asking you out before you left Baltimore. No, I don’t mean flat-out ask you on a date! I wished you were gay but didn’t think you were and we were too tied up with the case for me to have much time indulging in what-ifs. I thought we could have just go have a beer or dinner.”

 “Why did you accept my job offer?” Gibbs asked.

 Tony drew in a deep breath. “I’d received a call from my unit’s leader asking if I would commit to another long-term deepcover operation. I decided I’d had enough and told him so. I officially quit that night without knowing what I’d do. I had no intention of staying on at the BPD but had no clear idea where I wanted to be. Then you offered me the job at NCIS out of the blue. The rest is…” Tony smiled. “…the beginning of my future.”

 “So what spooked you just now?”

Tony didn’t answer immediately but Gibbs waited. “Suddenly wondered if my luck would decide to run out after all these years, maybe. I mean, I’ve been working undercover ever since I got out of uni. Just started my working life that way. Wasn’t planned. Been through some near-misses and life at NCIS has been pretty smooth-sailing except for a couple of times.” He flashbacked to his days battling the plague and his capture in Somalia rescuing Ziva. “I haven’t had any cause for complaints. Then suddenly I have all this money and it wasn’t through my hard work. And now I have you.” He shrugged. “Never thought I’d have such good luck. Afraid I might wake up and find it wasn’t real, maybe?”

Gibbs pulled Tony to him. “I guess sometimes wishes do come true. I never thought I’d love anyone as much as I loved Shannon and Kelly but here I am. With someone who fills the void left by the two people I’ve loved more than life itself.”

 Gibbs kissed Tony, tenderly, stretching out the moments. He kissed Tony’s lips, nose, under his eyes, caressing Tony’s face with soft lips whispering soothing words.

 “We just need some regular time together,” Gibbs said. “This break was one the team needed after the last six months and it brought our feelings out in the open. Now we need to come down from the high and we need to be home to do that.”

 “You mean I need to come by your place with Chinese and beer on Friday night as usual?”

 “No. I mean we need to go home from work together,” Gibbs said. “Go buy the Chinese on our way home then go to work together the next morning. Get our coffees on the way in, chase down cases together. Do what we’ve been doing the last nine years.”

 A smile broke out on Tony’s face. “You make it sound so simple. That’s the secret, isn’t it? It _is_ that simple.”

 Gibbs chuckled. “If it is, I haven’t been following it or I wouldn’t have three ex-wives.”

 “Guess not.” Tony laughed. “Uh, have you had a lot of sex with uhh…” his voice trailed off.

 “With women?” Gibbs smiled. “I guess I got my fair share. Men, no…but enough to know I prefer it to sex with women. Just not enough to want a committed relationship, to come out and go through all that angst. So I stuck to women. Easier. Or so I thought.” He shook his head.

 “So no boyfriend?”

 “Nope. Just a couple of brief encounters. Not in the last few years either.”

 “No wonder you’re so tight.” At least that was what Tony’s cock told him and he was just passing the message on.

 “You are, too. Don’t bottom much?”

 “No, but if you’d rather top, I’m easy.”

 “As long as you’re easy with only me, Tony.” Gibbs growled. “I’m a possessive bastard.”

 “Wouldn’t have you any other way.”

 “And yeah, I like you topping me.” Gibbs smiled.

 “I can see wonderful times ahead, Leroy Jethro Gibbs.” Tony kissed him. “Let’s move this to the stateroom, shall we?”

 

 

_**Sunday** _

 

The team awoke just after sunrise and gathered out on deck for breakfast.

 “Good morning, Ziva.” Tony greeted his colleague. “You’re looking very sexy in your hot pink halter and your tan.”

 “She does, doesn’t she?” Palmer said. “I’ve taken pictures and sent them to Breena. And she thinks you’ve got a great butt, Tony.” He grinned. “You, too, Gibbs. She thinks you’re incredibly hot for a guy your age. I think so, too. I know she’s going to love the pics I’ve got of you and Tony.”

 “Palmer,” Gibbs turned around and glared at the young man. “Do you want to know what an i-Phone feels like shoved up your butt?”

 “What? Uh, oh. No more pictures.” Palmer scrambled off his seat and scurried off.

 “Where’s he going?” Ziva asked.

 “Probably to send the photos off to Breena before his ass is force-fed with an i-Phone,” Tony replied, pouring himself a cup of coffee. “I wonder if by any chance they have hazelnut syrup.” He waved Simon over and asked.

 “Of course, sir,” Simon replied. “We have hazelnut, almond Roca, butter rum and chocolate macadamia.”

 “Ooh, I’ll try a chocolate macadamia latte,” Abby said. “And a Caf-Pow after that.”

 The group moved to the sun deck after breakfast, lounging around on the seats and couches. They saw flying fish leaping out of the water in graceful arcs followed by a school of dolphins.

  “Ahh, the fragrance of the sea and fresh air.” Ducky smiled.

 “Sure beats the odor in the autopsy room,” Palmer agreed.

 “Thank you, Anthony, for this holiday,” Ducky said to Tony.

 “Very welcome, Dr. Mallard,” Tony responded. “Does this mean you’ll join us next year?”

 “Next year?” Abby lifted her head from her sunbed. “We’re doing this again next year?”

 “If we get a few days off like this year,” Tony replied.

 “You’re serious, Tony?” McGee asked. He frowned. Just how much money did Tony inherit?

 “Since we’re all here,” Gibbs said. “And Louise is taking a nap, let’s talk about Tony and me. McGee.”

 “Yes, boss?”

 “I’m not the boss on vacation, McGee, but I get where you’re coming from. I’m aware we live and breathe our jobs. It’s that very reason that I changed my mind about Rule 12. It would be very unrealistic of me to believe close emotional bonds wouldn’t turn into romantic attachments. Everyone listened intently, Abby having sat up and clasped her legs to her, McGee next to her. Gibbs and Tony were in the Jacuzzi pool while Ducky and Palmer pulled a couple of chairs forward.

 “There’re a couple of things I’m doing only once. One of them I’ve already done and the next is telling you about my personal relationship with Tony. If you have any concerns now’s the time to address them. Once we get to DC it’s back to work for all of us and I’ll head slap anyone who forgets that.”

 Gibbs climbed out of the Jacuzzi pool and sat on the edge. “While my relationship with Tony only started on this vacation, my feelings for him go way back to when we first met in Baltimore. Neither of us acted on it because of a number of reasons. That’s how it was these last nine years so, McGee, if we could keep things professional all those years, there’s no reason to think we won’t now.”

 “No, boss. I mean, no Gibbs.” McGee took a deep breath then added, “actually I’m more concerned about Tony’s new-found financial status. Well, I was but Tony’s assured us he’s not leaving. Then it occurred to me that if you’re both involved, Vance is bound to transfer Tony to another team. Or offer him his own team. If it ends up a transfer, Tony might quit and if even if it’s his own team, it means we will still lose him.”

 “Nice to know I’ll be missed,” Tony said.

 “Is that going to happen, Gibbs?” Abby asked.

 “Change happens,” Gibbs reminded them. “Not all of it within our control. We’ve been a team for almost a decade, except for Ziva. We’ve stayed together far longer than any other team in the Agency. Hell, we’ve stayed together far longer than most teams in _any_ agency. But promotions happen. As they should. That’s all I can tell you for now, McGee.”

 “That’s all? Wow, Gibbs.” Abby stared at their team leader. “You gave a lecture.”

 “I did.” Gibbs smiled and got to his feet. “Enjoy the sea breeze, folks.” He cocked his head at Tony.

 As Tony got up and followed Gibbs, he heard Palmer start crooning, “ _I really mean it when I tell you I’ll be at your beck and call. Ooo-ooo-oo._ ” He stopped and backtracked to Palmer, delivering a swift head slap before running after Gibbs.

 “Mr. Palmer,” Ducky said to his assistant. “Might I point out to you that the chances of you being invited on a group holiday again are becoming exceeding unlikely –”

 “I understand, Dr. Mallard,” Palmer sputtered out. “Won’t happen again.”

 With a baleful glare, Ducky left to go check on Louise.

 The rest of the day went by with everyone dispersed around the yacht, gathering for lunch then lazing the afternoon away.

 

  
_*  *  *  *  *  *_

 

They headed back for Key West in the late afternoon, arriving shortly before sunset.

Tony arranged for dinner to be delivered for Gibbs and himself when Gibbs expressed a desire to stay in. The rest decided on a night out on the town since it was their last night in Key West.

“Heads up,” Tony called out before everyone went to their rooms. “Flight back is eleven in the morning. We’ll head for the airport at ten so be packed and downstairs by then. Have fun on the town.”

Back in their bedroom, Gibbs went straight into the bathroom. “Shower, Tony.”

“Yeah, go ahead.”

“No. You’re joining me,” Gibbs ordered.

“Oh, okay.” Tony frowned. “I stink?” He sniffed his armpits.

“Not any more than me,” Gibbs replied. “But I don’t wanna get out of bed tonight until I’ve had my fill.

A thrill shuddered through Tony at Gibbs’ words. They hadn’t fucked as much as he thought they would on board the yacht, Gibbs wanting to play it cool since the whole team was on board. “Not one for letting everyone know what I’m doing."

“And because your ass hurt,” Tony had added.

“There is that,” Gibbs had responded.

They soaped each other up, their aroused cocks sliding against each other’s.

“Bend over,” Tony told Gibbs who did as he was ordered and let Tony clean him out. “How’s your ass now?”

“As good as new,” Gibbs replied. He hissed when Tony’s thick finger slid in his asshole, slippery with bath gel. Another finger entered as Tony used the shower head to wash Gibbs, followed by a long lick of his tongue.

“Mm…just right for a feast.” Tony smacked Gibbs on a butt cheek causing the man to yelp. “Gonna eat you inside out, boss.

“Do you _have_ to do that ‘boss’ thing?” Gibbs growled. “Okay at work but not away from it.”

“Get used to it, boss, cos the harder you ride my ass at work, the harder I’m riding yours when we get home.”

“Sounds like a deal I can’t refuse.” Gibbs laughed. “I’ll take it.” Gibbs turned off the shower after Tony finished. “Remember I mentioned about getting tested when we get back?” Gibbs said as they dried off.

Tony paused in the act of drying himself. _Yes!_ “I just got my results from my six-monthly. I’ll give you a copy.” Tony responded. “I’m clean. Always been careful, Jethro.” His heart thudded at the thought of being inside Gibbs with nothing coming between them.

“Me, too,” Gibbs said. “Even with my exes.”

“You suited up even with your exes? Why?”

“Habit,” Gibbs replied. “The fact that I did even though they were on the pill should’ve been a warning sign, I guess.”

“So why am I different?”

“You should have been The One. After Shannon. Shouldn’t have married any of the others. Should have waited until I met you.”

Tony huffed softly. “Yet when you did meet me, you made me wait nine years.”

“Sometimes I’m wrong,” Gibbs said wryly, throwing the towel in the basket.

“Rule fifty-one,” Tony murmured, following Gibbs out.

 

  
*  *  *  *  *  *

 

  “Legs on your chest,” Tony ordered when they got to the bed. Ahead of them was the wide length of the window giving them a panoramic expanse of sea but Tony only had eyes for the man lying on the bed in front of him. A man holding his knees, spreading himself wide and watching Tony with eyes as blue as the ocean around them.

 Tony knelt before Gibbs’ ass and pressed his face against the softness of Gibbs balls. He felt the hard cock against his forehead and nuzzled in more, his tongue snaking out to lick Gibb’s perineum.

 “Oh God, Tony,” Gibbs breathed out harshly. He lifted his head to watch Tony’s head between his thighs and fell back with a thud and a groan when Tony pierced his asshole with that wicked tongue of his.

 Tony tongue-fucked Gibbs leisurely, keeping his ass cheeks spread so Tony could have a good view of what he was doing.

 “Ever used a dildo?” he asked as he inserted a finger.

 “Unhh…”

 “What’s that? Yes or no?” Another finger went in.

 “Ughhh.”

 “English, Gibbs.” The third finger joined the first two as Tony dribbled more lube. “Yes or no.”

 “Uhh…yesss.”

 “Do it often?” Tony started pumping the fingers.

 “Gawwd…no. Coupla times…uhh.”

 “Know what?” Tony watched his fingers fucking Gibbs. “If you’re too much of a bastard at work, you’re going to have to make up for it when you get home, understand? If it’s obvious you were being an asshole at work to _any_ of us, you will be punished when we get home. Agreed?”

 Silence greeted Tony’s question. He brushed Gibbs’ prostate and chuckled when Gibbs gasped.

 “Agreed?” Tony slid his fingers to the base, stretching Gibbs.

 “Punished how?” Gibbs rasped out.

 “Well, now. Depends on my mood that night. I might let you choose,” Tony replied. “Or do stuff I’ve fantasized about for years.”

 “Like?” Gibbs held his breath.

 “Oh, like use an extra-large dildo on you while you’re tied up and at my mercy.”

 Gibbs swallowed.

 “You’ll like it in the end,” Tony said casually. “But you’ll know you were still being punished. Lovingly punished but still punished. And if I think you’re not sufficiently contrite, I won’t let you come. I’ll take you to the edge every time and pull back at just the right moment, leaving you hanging.”

 “And you call _me_ the bastard?”

 Tony laughed. “Hey, who knows? I might not even last myself. I’ve never done this bondage/sex games thing before.”

 “Could’ve fooled me.”

 “Nah. All it takes is imagination. You’re the only guy I’ve ever wanted to try them out on, that’s all.” With that, Tony took Gibbs’ cock in his mouth and all coherent conversation ceased.

 

 

_**Monday morning;** _

_**Flight back to DC** _

 

“Have you decided on the executor thing yet?” Tony asked Gibbs after Cindi-with-an-i served them their coffee.

 Gibbs didn’t reply immediately, taking another swallow of coffee instead. Finally, he nodded. “Yeah. I accept, Tony. Happy you trust me.”

 “And I made you and the team my beneficiaries,” Tony added quickly.

 That got him an immediate response, albeit a stunned, silent glare.

 “You’re the one who told Abby family’s more than just DNA.” Tony looked out of the aircraft window, watching the Keys being left behind. “You’re all I have as far as family’s concerned.”

 “You’re not talking about just a few hundred grand, Tony.”

 “If I told you I was leaving it all to a charity, would your reaction have been the same?”

 Gibbs smiled. “Guess not.” He got what Tony was saying. Still… “Depends on how much money you’re talking about…I don’t need the money. I need you.”

 “The amount isn’t the point. It’s that you and the team…you’re all I have. I have no family to speak of anymore. You still have your dad. So does McGee. Ziva, too. I don’t have any parents left. Abby doesn’t even know her biological ones. She and McGee may be planning to get married but you know she needs her “family” around. As for Ziva…she’s just as vulnerable as any of us when it comes to the sense of belonging. Maybe even more so considering she’s the foreigner amongst us.”

 “Not for long. Citizenship ceremony’s next week.”

 “Something good, at least. Would suck to go home to just bad memories. She told me about Ray.” Tony went on to fill Gibbs in.

 “She didn’t love him.” Gibbs concluded after Tony finished.

“She didn’t know how to,” Tony said. “But I believe she’ll be ready the next time.”

 “What about you?” Gibbs asked. “Why are you ready?” When Tony didn’t reply, Gibbs added, “Who are you in your eyes, Tony?” Gibbs saw the look on Tony’s face and smiled. “If I’d shown a tenth of the interest I have in you in any of my ex-wives, I’d still be married, Tony.”

 “You really care,” Tony said softly. At the lift of Gibbs; brow, he clarified, “about me. I mean, you’re really interested in me.”

 “You thought I just wanted sex?”

 “Um…”

 “Didn’t I tell you I want everything?” Gibbs reminded Tony. “‘Everything’ means I want to know the parts of you that you’ve kept hidden away…and I know you have your secret compartments and your masks because you did away with one about two years back. You dropped the class clown act. I want to know what caused the change.”

 Tony grinned back at Gibbs. “Ah, we gonna talk about my second-most favorite subject – me. Used to be first place until a certain steely-eyed Marine gunnery sergeant usurped it.”

 Gibbs waited patiently, as was his way. It didn’t matter to him which Tony he got, the clown, the frat boy, the professional, the lover…as long as Tony gave him all.

 “As everyone knows,” Tony began. “My childhood, while a privileged one as far as physical comforts go, was nothing to complain about. Things changed only after my mother died. My father wasn’t the type to go to his son’s ballgames or get involved with the neighborhood watch, so to speak. I had nannies so that my parents could travel to some exotic location at a moment’s notice. But when they were home, my mom spent a lot of time with me. We went to the movies every weekend and on weeknights, if I hadn’t gotten into a fight, had completed my homework and had supper, we’d settle down to another movie.

 “When mom died, my father shipped me off to an expensive boarding school. You know, my dad didn’t have much time with me but what little he did give me was basically good. He never hit me. Never even raised his voice at me. He wasn’t the kind of guy to lose his temper. Somehow he’d get things worked out without getting mad.

 “When he died, I felt very alone. I was thirty-six but suddenly I felt like the eight year-old kid whose mother just died. I suffered panic attacks at night and couldn’t go back to sleep.

 “That why you started showing up in my basement?”

 “Did I?”

 “Every Friday.”

 “I know. I just didn’t realize it was connected to losing my father.”

 “What do you think now?”

 Tony laughed suddenly. “I think, _Doctor_ Gibbs, that losing my remaining parent and then my uncle six months later, caused me to change tactics. I decided I’d be more the man I am inside because I felt…lost. And that if I didn’t get hold of the real Tony DiNozzo, I might lose him, too. Weird, huh?”

 “Nobody wants to hide forever,” Gibbs said.

 “No, I didn’t and I’m glad I threw away that mask. I’d been living and working undercover for so many years that it was hard to stop completely even after I left the unit. My father’s and uncle’s deaths gave me a kick in the butt and I started to reclaim the real Tony. I know the abrupt change has puzzled and worried McGee. That guy’s pretty intuitive despite being a geek. I guess I owe him an explanation.”

 “You don’t have to explain anything.”

 “But I should. I don’t want any of them thinking this is just another mask. They already have enough dealing with our relationship.”

 

   
_**Tuesday morning;**_

_**The Bullpen** _

 

“‘morning, boss,” McGee greeted Gibbs.

“‘mornin’.” Gibbs stood. “Be at MTAC.”

 “Okay.” McGee looked over at Tony’s desk. His computer was on so Tony was in already. He wondered if he came in together with Gibbs.

“Hi McGee,” Ziva said, entering the bullpen.

 “Hi Ziva.”

 “Gibbs and Tony in yet?” Ziva asked.

 “Gibbs is and I think Tony is, too. His computer’s on.”

 “I’m glad to be back at work,” Ziva said. “And to be home.”

 “I know.” McGee frowned. “We were away five days but it feels like five weeks.”

 “It’s probably because we were watching Gibbs and Tony every minute.”

 “Yeah.” McGee agreed. “It was like reality TV.” He shook his head. “Hate to say this but I hope we catch a case today. I need to clear my head.”

 “Hi Tony,” Ziva chirped as Tony entered the bullpen. “What’s that you have?” She came round her desk to look at what Tony was perusing.

 “And a good morning to you.” He whipped his hand out of Ziva’s reach when she tried to grab whatever it was he was looking at.

 “What is it? Let me see.” Ziva tried to reach for it.

 “A right little nosey thing you are these days, aren’t you?”

 McGee, curious at the little exchange, came up to them. “Some sort of calendar. O-ohh, a _gay_ Playmate calendar?”

 “Give it to me.” Ziva jumped up, trying to grab it from Tony’s uplifted hand. Changing tactic, she tickled Tony’s sides causing him to yelp, the calendar falling from his fingers to be neatly caught by Ziva.

 She ran back to her desk. “Wow. These men are hot. How come I never see any of them when we go to the FBI offices or when the LEOs turn up at a crime scene? And this one – hah! I’ve never seen a fireman that looked like this.” She laughed as she flipped the pages. “Ooh, I like Mr. July and friends.”

 “You might like to know that I just received an invitation to be 2012’s Mr. February. February is for NCIS.”

 “What do you mean?” Ziva asked.

 “That,” he pointed to the calendar Ziva was holding. “Is a preview of next year’s calendar published by an organization that supports military spouses whose men and women were killed in action. They feature agencies under the DoD. It’s NCIS’ turn for the 2012 calendar and yours truly has been selected for the photo shoot. Production begins a year in advance and I need to give them my response within a week.”

 “Tony, these men are naked.” Ziva pointed out. “Oh, their private parts may be strategically hidden but they’re still naked.”

 “And your point is?” Tony asked, studying Mr. February 2011 who would be from the DEA.

 “You may have been selected but I doubt if Gibbs will allow you to display your body like that.”

 “Yeah, Tony,” McGee added. “You’d be walking around nude with other guys. None of these are alone. They’re all twos or threes.”

 “Hmm, you’re right. At the same time, I don’t agree that Gibbs would object. Hey, he’ll be getting a pinup model all day and night. What’s to object to? He may be old but he’s not that old. And I can guarantee you that.” Tony chuckled. “The Great White’s got the stamina of a bull –”

 Whack!

 “Ow! Sorry, boss.” Tony rubbed the back of his head.

 “Get your gear.” Gibbs went to his desk and took out his weapon. “Dead Marine.”

 

 

 

 


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A small casefic to take our boys back to the normal routine then one more chapter and we’re done.

 

 “Lance Corporal Lisa Watkins,” McGee read out. “Returned from a tour of duty in Afghanistan three weeks ago. Single.”

 “Cause of death appears to be a head slap,” Tony added, moving the blood-matted hair aside. “And a stab wound in the chest.”

 Gibbs gave him a hard glare before turning to their ME. “Ducky?”

 “Blunt force trauma,” Ducky replied. “And, very likely, a cardiac stab wound. Palmer, let’s get the Lance Corporal back to autopsy.”

 The body had been found in the bush by hikers who called it in. According to Ducky, time of death was less than twenty-four hours ago.

 “Gibbs,” Tony called out. “Looks like someone other than the killer was here.”

 Gibbs squatted and peered at the small pink handbag. The type a little girl would carry. “Bag it.” Damn. He hated it when kids were involved.

  _Uh oh._ Tony ran down the slope to the clump of bushes. “Over here. Victim Number Two.”

 Victim Number Two was likely the owner of the pink handbag. Her small, lifeless body was wedged under the thick bushes, only her little arm sticking out which Tony had spotted. Her pink and white dress was bunched around her waist and she was missing her underwear.

 Even after the body was removed, Gibbs did not move from his spot. He’d watched Ducky and Palmer go about their job, giving the kid a cursory examination before Ducky announced that death appeared to be strangulation. More, after he’d examined her in autopsy.

 Gibbs sat stonily throughout the drive back to Hq, not responding to Tony’s questions or asking any.

 Back in the bullpen, the agents scrambled to get a lead.

 “I want the killer and I want him NOW!” Gibbs banged on his desk loudly, causing the staff on the other side to look up.

 “Hurrying, boss,” McGee muttered.

 “Kid’s already dead,” Tony said.

 “I know she’s dead!” Gibbs yelled. “You’re not here to tell me things I can see with my own eyes.”

 “I meant to say that the kid wasn’t the only dead body,” Tony countered, his voice quiet and controlled. “If she was, it could signal there may be others. The presence of a second victim, an adult female, is telling me this isn’t the work of a random killer. The kid isn’t the victim of a pedophile ring. I think the killer is someone close to them.”

 “Kid’s name is…uh…” McGee swallowed. Gibbs and Tony turned to look at McGee.

 Ziva hurried over to look and stopped short, too.

 “Put it up, McGee!” Gibbs said testily.

 McGee did and Gibbs neared the screen to read the name of the little girl. Without a word, he turned and pushed past Tony on his way out.

 McGee and Ziva eyed Tony, neither of them saying anything.

 Damn, Tony thought. Couldn’t ask for a worse way to end the holiday and start a new week. Why did the kid’s name have to be Kelly?

  

 

_**Autopsy** _

  

“Ah, Jethro.” Ducky looked up from the body of Lisa Watkins. He handed a couple of containers to Palmer. “Jimmy, be so kind as to take these to Abby.”

 “What d’you got, Duck?”

 “Well, we’ll confirm it after Abby runs her tests but it appears the Lance Corporal here and our dear little girl over there had a meal shortly before they were killed. Within an hour. And…it looks like they ate at different places.”

 Gibbs’ brow lifted. “Different cuisine?”

 “I’ll let Abby answer that. But, Jethro…the little girl –”

 “Her name’s Kelly. Kelly Watkins,” Gibbs told Ducky. “That’s her mother.”

 “I see.” Ducky drew in a deep breath, wishing he didn’t have to tell Gibbs the rest. “Well, Miss Watkins suffered severe internal injuries which caused her hemorrhage. Death was by strangulation but even if the little girl wasn’t, she would have died from exsanguination.”

 “Blood loss,” Gibbs muttered. Ducky nodded. “She was raped.” Another nod from Ducky.

 Gibbs pulled out his phone. “Abs. Call me as soon as you got something. And I wanted it yesterday!” He shoved the phone back in his pocket and strode out.

 Gibbs was just entering the bullpen when he saw the director beckon him up. _Not now, Vance._ He made the detour, nevertheless, and went up the stairs, to his team’s relief.

 “I thought I was glad to be back to our normal routine,” Tony said, as he eyed Gibbs' ascent up the stairs. “But what I really want now is to take off into the wide, wide ocean. Sail away into the horizon…need a change of air.”

 “I doubt it will be today, Tony,” Ziva muttered. “Of all names for the kid to have.”

 “I’m going down to autopsy,” Tony said. “I’ll update you as soon as I get something from Ducky or Abby. Meantime, get any other background info you can before the boss gets back down.”

   


_**Vance’s office** _

  

“Give me an update, Gibbs.” Vance gestured to the chair.

 Gibbs remained standing. “Lance Corporal Lisa Watkins. Killed with a blow to her head; her daughter was found nearby. Raped and strangled. We’re running the tests now. Daughter’s five years old. Named Kelly.”

 Vance was about to tell Gibbs he meant an update on his team’s vacation and that personal matter they’d discussed but hearing the name of the little girl stopped him.

 “Find the killer and –”

 “We will.” Gibbs turned to go but halted when Vance called out.”

 “How did your vacation go?”

 Gibbs resumed his steps and reached for the doorknob. “You can tell SecNav he’s won the pot again.” He stepped out without another word.

  

 

*  *  *  *  *  *

 

Gibbs went down to Abby’s lab but she was still analyzing the samples and shooed him out. He didn’t feel like going back to the bullpen, knowing that his team would need some time and his mood would only impede their progress. He headed for the coffee kiosk instead. His cell phone rang. It was Tony.

“Boss, we got something. Where are you?”

“On my way.” Gibbs hurried back. “What have we got?” Gibbs asked as he rounded the bullpen.

The team gathered in front of the plasma.

Tony started. “Abby said the contents of Miss Watkins’ stomach are those of a burger, fries, Kickapoo Joy juice and blueberry ice-cream with M & M’s.”

“Bigger Burgers serves their burger meals with blueberry ice-cream and M & M’s,” Ziva added.

“And it’s the only place that serves it with the ol’ Li’l Abner’s Kickapoo Joy Juice.” Tony finished.

“So we got hold of all the security tapes of every Bigger Burger joint in the area and got this.” McGee clicked to the frame showing a vehicle outside the drive-in counter of the burger joint.

“Ducky said the girl’s stomach contents showed the food was ingested an hour or so before she was killed,” Tony said. “So we started with the Bigger Burgers nearest the Dalecarlia Reservoir and got this.”

The frame showed Kelly’s face through the car’s backseat window.

“Driver is Sean Pickens, step-brother of the Lance Corporal.”

“What the hell are you waiting for, DiNozzo? Bring him in!” Gibbs snapped.

Tony dashed out, the other two agents running after him.

 

*  *  *  *  *  *

  

 Pickens wasn’t home and his neighbors hadn’t seen him in the last few days. The auto shop he worked at said he’d called in sick two days ago. They were expecting him to turn up today but he didn’t.

 “He doesn’t show up tomorrow, he won’t have to come back,” the shop owner said.

 “If he does turn up later, give us a call straightaway.” Tony handed the guy his card. “Without telling him.”

 “What’s he done?” the owner asked. “I’m Bill, by the way.”

 “Bill Murray. We know. Your mechanic’s wanted for questioning over the murders of a Marine and her five year-old daughter.”

 “Kelly? Omigod.”

 “You know her?” Ziva asked.

 “Not really,” Bill replied. “But Pickens brought her in to work once. Said she was his step-sister and her mom would be picking her up in a couple of hours. No details. I didn’t ask cos we had a heavy schedule and as long as the kid wasn’t a bother, I didn’t mind. The mom came by with some guy and picked up the kid and that was that.”

 “Anything about Pickens that struck you as strange?” Ziva asked.

 Bill shook his head. “No. He was normal. Just an ordinary guy.”

 “Does he have a locker or anything here?” McGee asked.

 “Yeah. Over here.” Bill led them into the office. “In the room over there.” He nodded across to the door at the opposite end of the office. “The mechanics keep their junk in the lockers. I’ll get you the master key.”

 There was nothing belonging to Pickens in his locker.

 There was, however, a plastic bag containing a pair of girl’s panties. A little girl’s.

 “No blood,” Ziva said, bagging the evidence. “It was removed before he raped and killed her.”

 “Or Kelly wasn’t wearing this when he abducted her,” Tony added. “It looks new. Smells new.” He took a sniff.

 Ziva scrunched up her face at him. “I hope that was strictly for investigative reasons.”

 “You have a sick mind, Miss David.”

 They returned to the bullpen an hour later, having had no luck tracking Pickens down. A BOLO had been issued and the three agents knuckled down to go over what they had and to try and get more.

 From the look on Gibbs’ face, the week was going to be hell if they didn’t apprehend Pickens soon.

 At six pm, they got a call that Pickens’ SUV had been found abandoned. Before the agents could even leave the building, Tony got a call from Billy, the auto-shop owner.

 “Pickens just turned up,” Billy said.

 “Don’t let him leave.” Tony told him. “We’re on our way.”

 “He’s not going anywhere. He’s dead.”

 

*  *  *  *  *  *

 

 “I was in my office, closing up for the day,” Billy said. “The rest of the guys had already left. Or so I thought then I heard banging in the garage. Went to take a look and found Pickens staggering towards me. Blood all over him.”

 “Did he say anything?” Gibbs asked as Palmer loaded up the body.

 “Yeah. A name. Jess.”

 “Jess? Male or female?” Tony asked.

 “No idea,” Billy replied. “That was all he managed to get out before he died. Looked like he’d been knifed.”

 “In the gut.” Gibbs blew out a breath. “If you recall anything that may be connected to that name, call us.”

 “Will do.”

 “Coming or not?” Gibbs asked Tony, turning around on his way to the elevator.

 “Where?” Tony asked. They’d just gotten back from the auto-shop.

 “Home. Our only suspect’s dead. Pick it up in the morning after Abby’s done with his vehicle.”

 Tony hesitated. “Pick dinner up?”

 Gibbs sighed. “Yeah.”

 Tony powered down his PC and grabbed his bag. Ziva and McGee looked on curiously.

 “You, too, McGee. Ziva. Go home.” The two agents scrambled to get their gear.

 “Uh, I’ll head back to my place first –” Tony halted. “Uh, where am I staying tonight?” _Why was he having to ask this?_

 Gibbs threw him angry glare. “Where do you think, DiNozzo?” He strode off, not bothering to look back.

 “Looks like we’ve transported back in time to two weeks ago just before we caught the serial killer,” McGee muttered, dragging a hand down his face.

 “And I am so glad I’m not you, Tony.” Ziva looked at him, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “By the way, I got another smiley post-it. It was waiting for me in my drawer.”

 “Yeah, what did it say?” Tony asked, absently, his eyes still on the elevator even though it was long gone, taking Gibbs down with it.

 “Two stick figures with smiley faces. One girl, one boy. It said, ‘ _Welcome back. Tell me all about it_ ’, and I think I shall.”

 “Good for you.” Tony gave his two colleagues a wave. “Gotta go tame the Great White. See you tomorrow.”

 “Good luck, Tony,” McGee called out. “For _our_ sakes.” He rolled his eyes and sighed. “Like you said, glad I’m not Tony. No wonder he wants to go home to his place first. If I were him, I would stay there.”

   

*  *  *  *  *  *

 

Gibbs heard the footsteps on the basement stairs. He didn’t look up, knowing who it was, knowing he had some making up to do. Could he even do this? He shook his head. He was the one who’d assured them nothing would change when they got back to work.

In one sense nothing had but in another, it was wrong that nothing had. He shouldn’t have dumped his baggage on Tony like that. Or the other two agents. He shouldn’t have yelled at Tony the way he did in front of his colleagues. There had been no cause.

But the picture of the smiling girl and the recollection of her bruised, bloody body had been too much for him. His Kelly had been just three years older when her mangled body had been pulled from the wreckage.

Tony put the bag of food down. They ate in silence. When they’d finished, Tony bagged the cartons and empty water bottles up.

“I’ll go shower. Come up and shower in an hour,” Tony said, finally. “An hour, Jethro, or I’ll come down and drag you up and believe me, you won’t like it.”

Gibbs watched Tony go up the stairs, one deliberate step at a time. He sucked in a breath, not realizing he’d been holding it. _Damn_.

Exactly one hour later, Tony heard the door to Gibbs’ bedroom open and Gibbs entered.

“Well done,” Tony said. “Now go clean up thoroughly. And I mean _thoroughly_. Then come here and kneel beside the bed.”

Gibbs looked away from Tony.

“Good boy.” Tony smiled. “I didn’t even need to tell you glaring’s not allowed. You might just turn out to be a quick student, after all.”

Gibbs’ eyes shot back to Tony.

“Unh unh. Don’t ruin it now.” Tony wagged a finger. “Go on. Don’t keep me waiting too long.”

Tony heard the shower going and settled down to wait. He had no idea if this was going to work since he’d never done it before but if he was right, he’d be giving Gibbs exactly what he needed – the flip side of what Tony needed.

The water was turned off and Tony heard Gibbs rustling about in the bathroom, heard the sound the electric toothbrush Tony had given Gibbs last Christmas. The door opened after a few minutes and Gibbs stepped out hesitantly, as if he’d found himself in a strange room with a strange naked man in his bed.

“Lose the towel.” Tony told Gibbs and tilted his head towards the floor next to him.

Gibbs took the towel he’d wrapped around his hips and dropped it on the floor. His cock was hard and bobbing as he knelt beside Tony, head instinctively down.

Tony sat up, his legs over the edge of the bed. Right next to Gibbs yet not touching. He reached for the bag he’d left at the foot of the bed and drew out a pair of handcuffs. Without a word, he cuffed Gibbs’ hands in front of him then urged him onto the bed.

“First thing we’re buying is a bed with rails,” Tony said quietly. “But for tonight, you will just keep your hands above your head. If you can’t hold that position you may put them down on your chest. That’s all you can do. I’ll do the rest.”

Gibbs watched Tony warily, unsure how this was going to go yet unable to deny the need that was building up inside him. He lifted his cuffed hands over his head and saw Tony smile.

“I’ll take care of you, Jethro.” Tony kissed him gently. “I know what you were going through today. I understand. I want you to let it go tonight. Hand it over to me. Whatever it is that’s tormenting you…give it to me. Give yourself to me.”

Tony’s lips ghosted over Gibbs’ face, murmuring instructions, letting Gibbs know what was expected of him. “Not just tonight but every time you need this. Every time we step outside of our work, this is what I am to you and you, to me.

Tony’s mouth latched on to the side of Gibbs’ neck and he bit down hard, soothing away Gibbs’ cry of pain with his tongue.

“Give me a safe word.”

“Doo-wop.”

Tony chuckled. “Good one.”

He dug in his bag again, bringing out a tube of lube and what looked to Gibbs like…a butt plug? He’d never even seen one outside of the odd porn flick he’d watched when he was with the Marine Corps.

Tony placed the items on the bedside table then turned on knees to face Gibbs. “Sit up.” He ordered.

Gibbs scrambled to do so.

“Keep your hands down.” Tony moved nearer until his cock was pressed against Gibbs’ cheek. He took it in hand and traced the leaking tip across Gibbs’ cheek. The other hand cupped Gibbs’ jaw, turning him so Tony could draw his cock across the slightly parted lips. “Suck me, Jethro.”

Gibbs automatically lifted his hands before remembering they were cuffed and he wasn’t allowed to lift them away from his chest. His eyes flew to Tony’s.

“You’re doing good.” Tony nodded. “Take me in as deep as you can.” He sucked in a harsh breath as Gibbs opened his mouth and let Tony feed his cock in, bit by bit. When it was halfway in, Tony withdrew slowly and fed it back in.

“You’re so beautiful, Jethro, swallowing me. Now take me right down. You can use your hands.”

Gibbs lifted his cuffed hands and grasped Tony’s thick cock, trying to control his gag reflex. Tony wasn’t just long, nine or ten inches, but thick as well. It had been an effort just to get that broad, steel-hard head that far inside his mouth.

“Relax, Gibbs. No rush. If you can’t do it tonight, we’ll try tomorrow. We’ll keep at it until you can take me in easily.” Tony felt Gibbs’ throat relax and his cock moving in deeper. “Good boy, Jethro.”

Tony was a patient teacher, Gibbs noted, as he let Tony’s words soothe him, relax him. So different from the Tony at work. His eyes went to the man whose cock was nearly down his throat and saw the love.

Gibbs’ throat relaxed fully and he took Tony in till his pubic hair tickled his nose. He pulled back.

“Easy, Jeth.” Tony’s hand went to the back of Gibbs’ head to control his movement and Gibbs found himself giving way to Tony’s control. He slowed his pull-back, paused, then swallowed Tony again.

“Very good.” Tony breathed out. “Enough.” He pulled out smoothly then kissed Gibbs. “Very good, indeed.” He glanced at Gibbs’ cock, hard and glistening against his belly. “Now, let’s take care of that ass of yours.”

He grabbed the tube of lube and moved in between Gibbs’ legs, folding them against Gibbs’ chest. Coating Gibbs’ hole liberally, Tony squirted more on his fingers then slid one in. Gibbs gasped at the intrusion then felt a second one join the first. He groaned and bucked when Tony pressed against his prostate.

“Let’s loosen you up a bit,” Tony said. “A third finger slid in partially and Tony began to scissor them, watching Gibbs’ face as he widened the hole. “I need you looser and need you to get used to having my cock up your ass. Even when it’s not, you’re not going to forget how it feels.

“I want you to be able to handle being fucked hard and rough. For those times when you need to relinquish all control. Understand?” Tony’s fingers spread even wider inside Gibbs and the other man was breathing hard. Gibbs’ cock was jerking and Tony knew Gibbs was close to coming.

“Blow me again. I’m going to come in your mouth and you will swallow every drop.”

Gibbs nodded and turned his head slightly aside, lips parted and ready.

“Damn, Jethro. I love you like this.” Tony held Gibbs’ head as he sucked Tony off and drank him down when Tony pulsed in his mouth, shooting down Gibbs’ throat.

It took Tony a few minutes to get his breath back but he hadn’t forgotten the man next to him. Gibbs waited in silence, his own breaths coming quickly. He needed to be fucked so badly but knew he couldn’t demand it. Maybe he could ask.

“Please.” The single word escaped Gibbs’ puffy lips.

Tony touched those cock-swollen lips with a finger. “I know. Not tonight.”

Gibbs whimpered.

“Tomorrow.” Tony promised, releasing Gibbs’ hands from the cuffs. “As soon as we get home. Go to sleep now. No basement. TV’s allowed so you can come down and join me if you wish. _No_ jerking off.” He got out of bed, cleaned up then left the bedroom.

 The kettle had just come to the boil when Tony heard Gibbs come downstairs.

 “Making tea. News is on but there’s a western on, too. You may not like it, though. City Slickers. Jack Palance won an Oscar for his performance.”

 Gibbs sat down on the sofa. This was more like the Tony he knew. The Tony earlier had unsettled him somewhat but only initially. Once they’d gotten started, that Tony had managed to reduce him to a boneless sack, ready to accept anything from Tony’s hand.

Tony brought the two mugs over to the coffee table and drew Gibbs into his arms. With a free hand, he clicked the remote and took them to the newsroom.

“Nothing but the usual verbal diarrhea. Let’s watch Billy Crystal and Palance instead.” He switched the channels, dropping a kiss on Gibbs’ head as he did so.

After the movie, Tony rinsed out the mugs and took the trash out, telling Gibbs to stay put when the latter got up to help. “Bedtime.” Tony said, when he came back in the house.

  

 

*  *  *  *  *  *

 

 Tony’s alarm went off at five and he climbed out of bed. Gibbs was just rousing. “Good morning.” He leaned over and kissed Gibbs. “I’ll make coffee. See you downstairs.”

 Gibbs washed up after Tony exited the bathroom, dressed and followed the smell of coffee. Tony had not only dressed but was sliding eggs and bacon onto two plates.

 “Where did you get eggs?” Gibbs asked, taking cutlery out of the drawer.

 “From the minimart near my place last night. Got milk, too, if you want cereal.”

 They ate their breakfast quickly and Gibbs was grabbing his coat when Tony stopped him.

 “You need to put on something else, too,” Tony told him, leading Gibbs back to the lounge. “Take your pants off and bend over the couch.”

 “Tony –” One look at Tony’s face had Gibbs obeying.

 “We’ve got time.” Tony dug out the butt plug from his back pack and the lube. Seeing Gibbs bent over the couch without another word of protest had gotten him so hard, he almost changed his mind.

 It was a working day in the middle of the week and Kelly Watkins’ killer was still out there. His palm caressed one of the bared butt cheeks.

 “You’re more important, Jethro,” Tony whispered in Gibbs’ ear. “The case is important, but you’re more. Now, I want you to wear this butt plug all day until we get home. You may remove it to relieve yourself but put it back inside your ass once you’re done. Every time you move and you feel it, you think of the fucking I’m going to give you as soon as we’re in the door. You got me?”

 Gibbs nodded, breathing hard and fast. “Gotya.”

 


	17. Chapter 17 & EPILOGUE

 

 

 

 

  
**Chapter 17**

 

“Good morning, boss. Tony,” McGee greeted the two men as he arrived shortly after Ziva. He gave Tony a questioning look across the bullpen but Tony pretended not to notice.

McGee, unable to get Tony’s attention, sent him a text. _What’s the weather like?_

Tony didn’t get a chance to reply because Gibbs stood and barked. “We got anything?”

Gibbs sucked in a breath as the butt plug made its presence felt. His eyes flew to Tony who met his gaze briefly before turning back to his monitor screen.

“Uh, Gibbs.” Tony went to the plasma. “Abby just sent this.” He clicked on the plasma and showed a photo of a knife. “Our murder weapon. Or the type, rather.”

“Strider HT-S,” Gibbs murmured.

“Looks like yours, boss,” McGee said.

“Mine’s a Zero Tolerance 0302. Different.”

“Yup. The wound on the Lance Corporal shows the knife used to stab her had a serrated spine,” Tony said. “So did Pickens’. The Strider HT-S has a distinctive serrated spine on the blade.”

“Same weapon killed both Watkins and Pickens,” McGee said. “We went through Watkins’ apartment yesterday and there was nothing in there that could have been tied to her murder.”

“I’ll go to Pickens’ apartment now,” Tony said, looking to Gibbs for confirmation.

“Go.” Gibbs nodded. “Take Ziva. McGee, see what else you can come up with on the knife.”

“On it, boss.” McGee took off to Abby’s while Tony and Ziva headed for Picken’s home.

“Hi Tim.” Abby hugged him when McGee came up to her. “How’s the weather upstairs?”

“Better than I expected,” McGee replied. “I asked Tony but he couldn’t reply. Gibbs was calling for an update. I hope it went okay with him last night.”

“Even if it was a little stormy, it will clear,” Abby told him. “Gibbs won’t hurt Tony and even if he did, it would be inadvertently. Never on purpose…and, trust me, Tony knows how to handle Gibbs.”

“What makes you so sure?” McGee asked.

“You mean after what you witnessed at Key West you still doubt our Tony? Tim, Tony got Gibbs to go up on stage and sing! And come out to all of us and a whole club full of strangers.”

McGee smiled. “Yeah, you’re right.” He frowned briefly. “I hope.”

“I am.” Abby insisted. “Just wait and see.”

“Okay.” McGee nodded. “Now, what else can you tell me about the knife? Gibbs says it’s a Strider HT-S.”

“Not a Strider. But very similar.” Abby clicked a few keys and brought up the photo of a knife like the one she’d emailed to McGee. “This is what likely killed both Lance Corporal Watkins and Pickens, based the wound pattern. It’s made by a new company, Stryker Steel. The Ka-Bar knives are very similar in design to the ones by Strider except for one thing.”

“What?” McGee looked closer at the screen.

“The knife that was used on the victims had color coating. Like these Striders – an aluminum oxide blast finish, or their tiger stripe.” Abby brought up samples of those. “But our murder weapon had what Stryker Steel calls the Leopard finish. Like this.”

Abby brought up the photo of the Stryker Steel knife.

“Instead of a tiger, it’s a leopard.” Abby told him.

“Then how do you know our murder weapon is a Stryker Steel and not a Strider since the difference is in the design of the stripes, not the knife itself?”

“Beca-ause…the compound that’s used for the Stryker Steel stripes is unique and patented so only Stryker Steel blades have them. _And_ …the same compound was found in the stab wound of both bodies. The force of the thrust was so great, a small amount of the color compound came off the blade. Very little, but enough for Major Mass Spec and his boys here to detect it and lift it.” Abby smiled triumphantly.

“That’s great, Abby. I’ll let Tony and Ziva know. They’re on their way to Sean Pickens’ place.”

“That’s not all,” Abby said. “Stryker Steel keeps a record of every item sold. They’ve only been in business ten months and only in California, New York and DC. This is the list.

McGee scrolled down the list. “Abby! Look. The buyer was a Jesse Pickens, not Sean. Our initial search didn’t show any siblings. Address is different from Sean’s, if I’m not mistaken.” McGee took out his phone and called Tony, updating him on Abby’s findings. “Tony, the Jess that Sean named just before he died is likely ‘Jesse’, not ‘Jess’. I’m on my way up to my computer. I’ll call you as soon as I get the info on him.” He rushed out of the lab without a word to Abby.

“Bye, Timmy. You’re welcome, Timmy.” Abby waved bye-bye at McGee’s disappearing form and turned back to her computer.

 

*  *  *  *  *  *

 

Gibbs lowered his ass gingerly onto his seat, trying not to squirm. As Tony had wanted it, there wasn’t a single moment Gibbs didn’t think of what Tony had inserted into his rectum. He’d had to remove it when he needed to relieve himself earlier then poked his head out to make sure no one else in the head before he washed the butt plug. As he reinserted it, the only thing in his mind was Tony’s promise of the fucking he was going to give Gibbs the minute they got home. It was mind-boggling. Less than a week ago, he was Tony’s boss and his special agent jumped whenever Gibbs barked. Less than a week ago, he’d stay late at work because there wasn’t anything or anyone to go home to. Now, his special agent still jumped to it when Gibbs gave an order but unless they had a late hot lead, Gibbs couldn’t wait to go home. ‘

And when he did, he wouldn’t be Tony’s boss anymore. Far from it. The thought of giving over control made him nervous but he couldn’t resist. Not when it was Tony. How it never occurred to him all these years, Gibbs didn’t know, but now that Tony had put the idea in his head and had, in fact, initiated it already – Gibbs’ sphincter squeezed around the butt plug instinctively – had Gibbs almost trembling with anticipation.

Gibbs saw McGee rush into the bullpen, curtailing the trend of his thoughts. He hoped the guy had some new information and told him so.

“I do, boss. Just a sec. I need to pull up something for Tony.” McGee tapped on his keyboard then made the call to Tony as Gibbs listened in.

“Tony, it _is_ Jesse, not Jess. Sean probably died before he could say the name properly. Jesse Pickens is Sean Picken’s cousin. Currently unemployed. His father and Sean’s dad are brothers. Jesse’s address is listed as 5413C, 5 th Street, North West. I’m sending his photo to you as we speak.”

“Got it, Tim. Nothing here in Picken’s apartment. We’ll head over to the cousin’s.”

“Tell him we’ll meet him there,” Gibbs told McGee and grabbed his weapon. “Let’s go.”

 

 

*  *  *  *  *  *

 

Tony pulled up on the kerb outside Jesse Picken’s residence. It was a drab four-storey brick building on the corner of 5th street and a side lane which had another rundown brick building further in. The lawn was straggly and flowerless along the entire row of buildings that stretched the road.

“What a depressing neighborhood,” Ziva remarked as they drew their weapons. There were some cars parked along the street but no one in sight. Not even a dog barked.

“5413C’s on the first level,” Tony said, checking the unit list on the wall. “Probably just a one-bedder judging by the type of building. Main door’s locked.”

“Not a problem.” Ziva got out her pouch.

“Of course it isn’t,” Tony murmured and turned the knob as soon as Ziva took care of the non-problem.

They checked the unit numbers, looking for Jesse Pickens’.

“Here we are,” Tony said, banging on the door. “Jesse Pickens.” There was no response and Tony banged again then took out his cell phone. “McGee. Do you have a cell phone record for Jesse? He’s either refusing to open the door or he’s not home.”

“Yeah, I have his cell number,” McGee reported. “Let me see if I can get a trace on it. Gibbs and I are about ten minutes away. Hang on.”

“Let’s hope he doesn’t turn up dead, too,” Tony said to Ziva as he waited for McGee.

“Tony, Jesse’s cell is active and he’s home. He’s making a call right now. Nope, he’s hung up.”

“He’s home. I’m going in.” Tony signaled to Ziva. She nodded and ran outside. Tony kicked the door open. “NCIS! Jesse Pickens!” The door next to unmade bed had slammed shut just as Tony entered the room. He kicked open the second door but Pickens was gone. Through the open window of the toilet.

“Ziva!” Tony called out of the window as he squeezed his large frame through, tumbling out onto the lawn outside. “Ziva!” He yelled, only to see her chasing Pickens down the side lane. “Damn. I hate it when they run.” Tony took off after Ziva and their perp.

By the time he got to Ziva, she was standing over Pickens, her Sig aimed at his prone body. “Cuff him, Dano.” Ziva winked at Tony. “And if I’m not mistaken, that knife clipped to his belt is a Stryker Steel-ZT01. Our murder weapon.”

Gibbs and McGee screeched to a halt just as Tony was leading the cuffed man out of the lane.

“Hi, boss,” Tony greeted cheerily. “He’s all yours once we get him back to Hq.”

 

*  *  *  *  *  *

 

It didn’t take Gibbs long to break Jesse Pickens, as Tony expected.

“The DNA on his Stryker-ZT01 _is_ kinda hard to explain away,” McGee said as they watched Gibbs from the other side of the mirror.

“Gibbs wasn’t after that,” Tony said. “We already got him on the murders of Watkins and Sean Pickens. No, the Great White was after a confession for the rape and murder of Kelly Watkins. He merely used evidence tying Jesse to the other two murders to get the confession he wanted.”

“So the pair of panties in Sean’s locker?” Ziva asked. She’d missed the first half of the interrogation, having had to attend to a personal matter – the source of the post-its having made an appearance in the flesh.

“Sean had bought a gift pack and had wrapped it up as a birthday gift for Kelly,” Tony explained, giving Ziva a curious side glance. “It came in a set which included the pink handbag, hair clips and other little girl stuff.”

“Jesse said Sean found the panty in his car and called Jesse about it because Jesse had borrowed Sean’s car. Sean went nuts on him and accused him of having ‘done something’ to Kelly. Sean threatened to go to the authorities and the short of it is that Jesse here killed his cousin. And where have you been, Miss David?”

“Wouldn’t you love to know.” Ziva smirked.

 

*  *  *  *  *  *

 

“Go home, people,” Gibbs announced once Jesse Pickens was taken care of. “You can write up the report tomorrow.” He stood up, pulled out his weapon from the drawer and glanced over to Tony’s desk.

Tony met Gibbs’ eyes and without a word, grabbed his backpack and strolled out of the bullpen, waving to his colleagues. “See you in the morning.”

Gibbs caught up with him just as the elevator doors opened. Waiting until the doors closed on them, Gibbs said, “Get dinner first?”

“We can call for pizza,” Tony replied, not looking at Gibbs. “Unless you’re in no hurry to get home. In which case, I could cook dinner. I bought stuff last night to last the week. Have ourselves a nice, relaxing evening.”

Gibbs drew in a deep breath. “You promised, Tony.”

Promised what?” Tony asked, feigning ignorance. Gibbs didn’t answer. “Say it, Gibbs,” Tony ordered.

Gibbs hesitated then said, “you promised to fuck me as soon as we got in the door. I don’t care about dinner. I want you to keep your promise.”

“Your butt plug still in place?”

“Yes.”

"Then you have been a good boy.” Tony turned and smiled at Gibbs. The doors opened and other employees entered. “I can’t wait to get home.” Tony flashed a happy grin at the other staff members. Several of them murmured agreement. Gibbs’ asshole clenched and he stifled a moan.

It took them twenty-five minutes to get home. Gibbs’ pulse ratcheted up as he drove down into his garage at the same time as Tony turned into the driveway. The garage led to his basement and Gibbs hurried through past his work table and tools, sprinting up the stairs to unlock his front door for Tony.

His fingers were trembling as he turned on the landing light and unlocked the door, knowing what was coming. His ass tightened around the butt plug. His cock was already hard and had been semi-erect most of the day.

He was about to open the door when Tony slammed it open then kicked it shut and locked it. Tony pushed Gibbs to the staircase which was just a few feet away.

“Remove your shoes and jacket. Now,” Tony ordered in a quiet but authoritative voice.

Gibbs found himself obeying this different Tony even as his mind scrambled to adjust. He swallowed heavily, breaths coming in short bursts, as he took off his jacket and folded it over the banister.

“Your Polo and your Hanes then get down on the steps. Facedown.”

Gibbs did as he was told, supporting himself with his forearms and knees on the carpeted steps. He felt Tony’s hands on his belt, undoing it, then his pants were removed, leaving him naked and panting.

Tony’s fingers touched his ass, caressing him. He felt lips planting kisses over his naked back. Gibbs moaned softly as Tony’s fingers felt for the butt plug and Gibbs sucked in a harsh breath as the device was withdrawn in one move.

The cold lube made Gibbs tighten up momentarily but Tony’s soft voice had him opening up again, spreading his legs as wide as he could on the stairs. He heard Tony’s clothes hit the floor and anticipation ramped up.

“Nice and ready.” He heard Tony say then strong hands gripped his hips. He cried out as Tony sank his thick cock deep into his ass in one stroke but it was a cry of pleasure than of pain, of a need finally filled.

The force of Tony’s thrusts sent Gibbs’ knees and forearms scraping and bumping the steps and likely resulting in carpet burn tomorrow. The thought merely increased Gibbs’ lust, causing him to beg for more.

“Oh, you’ll get more, Jethro,” Tony panted out. “I’m going to fuck you so hard and so thoroughly, you won’t be able to get up.”

Each thrust sent Gibbs slamming against the steps and if he ever wondered whether Tony wanted him, tonight dispelled all doubts. Tony fucked him like his life depended on it. The deep, hard strokes had Gibbs threatening to come and he said so.

Permission was denied.

Gibbs felt Tony’s arms leave his hips and encircle his chest as Tony covered him with his body. Teeth sank into his shoulder as the iron rod in his ass continued its punishing pace.

Then Tony was pulling him up and carrying him to the couch in the living room. In the dark with only the streetlight filtering in through the trees, Tony laid his lover down, murmured words of love and assurance.

To his boss, his Gibbs, his Jethro. His very life.

In turn, Gibbs knew this man, making love to him so intensely, understood him in a way no one else ever had.

“I love you, Jethro,” Tony said, kissing Gibbs tenderly even as his cock burrowed deeper inside. “I will have your six for as long as I live.” Tony withdrew and slid in again. “I will care for you, tend to all your needs and even your wants to the best of my ability.” He drew himself out slowly and thrust in. Hard. “There will never be anyone else in my heart, in my ass and my body is yours and only yours. You’re my boss at work but you’re mine to do as I please once we’re home. Agreed?”

“If I say yes,” Gibbs gasped out. “Can I come?”

Tony chuckled. “In my ass.” And he withdrew from Gibbs, lubed up his hole and climbed over Gibbs. He lined Gibbs’ cock up and sank down to the root. Clasped together, they drove each other to a blinding orgasm – Tony spurting thick ropes of come over Gibbs’ chest and face as his ass was pumped full with Gibbs’ come.

They were still heaving against each other when sounds came from outside the front door, followed by the doorbell ringing. An insistent knocking began.

“Jethro! Open up!”

“Fornell,” Tony hissed, lifting his head from Gibbs’ chest.

“Ignore ‘im.” came the slurred reply.

The doorknob rattled. “Why’s your door locked?” More banging on the door.

Gibbs’ cell phone rang next. It was in his pants pocket. Said pants still over the banister. The ringing stopped.

Good, he’s gone, Gibbs thought. Then a dark shadow moved across the window and they saw Fornell, hands cupped, trying to peer inside the darkened house.

“Damn,” Gibbs muttered. “I should go tell him.”

“– to go away," Tony said. "He can call you later.” Tony got off to let Gibbs get up.

Gibbs put on his pants, hoping Fornell would give up and leave. His cell phone rang again. Gibbs dug it out of his pocket and looked at the caller ID. Damn again.

He opened the door a crack but didn’t see Fornell. Probably lurking around trying to break in. “What the hell, Tobias,” Gibbs yelled. “I’m having a fantastic fuck so go away. I’ll call you when I’m done.” Without waiting for a response, Gibbs slammed the door shut and locked it again then switched his phone off.

He returned to Tony to find the man laughing at him. “What?”

“Your whole neighborhood just heard what you’re doing.”

“The whole world can know for all I care,” Gibbs growled.

“You hungry?”

 “I could eat but I think I’ll have a drink. Need to come down a little.” A part of him wanted to continue what they were doing but another said he shouldn’t rush it. Something Tony seemed to know because he’d changed the pace, had toned down on the dominant stance. Giving Gibbs time to adjust. Or perhaps himself?

“You go wash up first and get us a drink while I put dinner in the oven.”

“What dinner?”

“Tandoori chicken,” Tony replied, heading for the toilet next to the kitchen.

“What tandoori chicken? I know you didn’t stop to get dinner. You were right behind me.”

“I bought the chicken last night,” Tony replied, when he came back out. “With the rest of the groceries. Marinated it this morning while you were getting dressed. Don’t look at me like that. The marinade comes in a bottle. Put everything in a plastic bag, tied it up, gave it a good massage then shoved it in the fridge. All I need to do is put it in the oven. Ready in half an hour.”

Gibbs watched Tony take out the bird, butterflied and marinated and lay it spread out on the baking tray. Tony had put on an NCIS apron – Gibbs didn’t even know they had such a thing – and he shook his head, smiling as he took the steps up his bedroom to get cleaned up.

When he came back down, freshly-showered, asshole still slightly tender, Tony was turning the chicken over and putting some frozen half-baked naan bread in as well.

“My turn to hit the shower.” Tony pulled Gibbs in for a kiss. “Your come’s leaking out of me. I may have missed a patch or two on your floor. Here, wipe them up.” He shoved the kitchen roll at Gibbs and sauntered off. “You can set the table and open a bottle of white.”

Half an hour later, the two men were seated at the table sharing the steaming hot, fragrant chicken and naan bread.

Gibbs had opened a bottle of chardonnay and he filled their glasses. “You were right about having bought enough groceries to last a week. I had to take half the stuff out to get to the wine.”

“We’ll get a bigger fridge and a proper wine cooler,” Tony said.

“You planning to cook every night?”

“If we’re home early like tonight. Why? Don’t like my cooking?”

“No, Tony. This is delicious. If we could, I’d have you cook every day but we can’t, obviously.” Gibbs bit into the tender, moist chicken and smiled as he chewed.

“What’s the smile about?” Tony asked.

Gibbs smiled wider. “Just liking this.”

“The chicken?”

“The set-up,” Gibbs replied. “I used to eat at this table alone all the time. Food never tasted like this. Was just stuff I shoved in my mouth to get rid of the hunger pangs. I’d sit here…suck on a beer…chew…staring into nothing coz that’s what it felt like – nothing. I’d get to work early so I could hit the gym. Beer, food and ruminating not exactly kind to the gut.”

“You still have a fantastic body, Jethro. The only men I know who still have abs and muscles like yours are gym owners and trainers. Not overly muscular or bulky but still defined. _Nice_.”

Gibbs went quiet after that. Tony let him be. As long as Gibbs had that half-smile on, Tony could relax. His chest tightened as he watched Gibbs eat the chicken with his fingers, as he watched Gibbs tear off the naan and mop up the marinade and juices from his plate, as he reached over and wiped a smear off Gibbs’ chin.

After nine years, this was good. Very good.

Gibbs caught Tony watching him. “What?”

Tony shook his head. “Just saying ‘I love you’ without words”.

Gibbs’ smile widened to a grin. “Same here.” and sang, “ _I say it best when I say nothin’ at all._ ”

They broke out laughing.

“You know…” Gibbs started and stopped.

“What?”

“I was expecting you to go all uber Dom on me. You know, get abusive if I were a little slow with my response…exert your authority by humiliating me or something…but you didn’t do any of that. You were gentle.”

“Disappointed?” Tony hoped not. He had no experience with this Dom/sub thing and no real need to find out. He’d just sensed Gibbs needed some kind of boundary between the Gibbs at work and the Jethro outside of it.

“Just curious,” Gibbs replied. “Wasn’t what I was expecting but definitely not disappointed. You must be pretty experienced to get me turning myself over to you so completely without stripping away my dignity. Without hurting me physically.”

“I’m no expert, Jethro, but I doubt a good Dom erodes his sub's dignity. Unless they're into the humiliation kink. I'm not. I’ve never done this before.” Tony smiled at Gibbs’ unbelieving look. “I’m just going by my gut. Making it up as I go along.”

“Doesn’t feel that way to me,” Gibbs said. “I know exactly when we’ve switched modes and it wasn’t when we entered the house. Not about that all. I’d know even if it happened outside. I’d know when I am to submit to you even though we’re not playing this by the book. I assume there are special rules and stuff.”

“A whole plethora of them, if you want to get into the real thing.” Tony drank his wine. “Do you?”

Gibbs shook his head. “Nah. I have everything to make me whole already. I don’t need more. I like the change, though…from work mode to home mode. I like the assertive Tony away from work but I’d miss the Tony at my beck and call if he weren’t there. Guess I want my Tony in every flavor he comes in.”

“I want –” Tony’s cell beeped a message, interrupting him. He went to get it and read the text message. “Fornell wants you to ‘ _turn your fucking phone on_ ’. Quote unquote.”

Gibbs laughed and grabbed his phone off the coffee table. There was a text message from Fornell:

_Why is DiNozzo’s car in your driveway if you’re having a Fantastic Fuck?_

Before Gibbs could reply, another message arrived.

_No. Don’t answer that._

Gibbs laughed and tabbed out his reply.

_Going to anyway._

_I was fretful so Tony was just doing what you suggested the last time you saw him. Door will be locked from now on, btw._

Gibbs switched off his phone. He had Tony’s if they needed to be reached.

 

 

*  *  *  *  *  *

 

**EPILOGUE**

 

 

Life at NCIS went on as usual. The cases came and went and the stench of death and decay met Team Gibbs every time they stepped into autopsy. Gibbs still barked at his team when they were being stone-walled by a suspect and his patience ran out. Once in awhile there were head slaps and Gibbs still drank enough coffee to keep the entire Navy Yard awake every day.

Some things were different, though.

Gibbs attended the office Christmas party as well as the New Year’s Eve party. Ten minutes before midnight, he announced his engagement to Tony to cheers and applause.

Tony wanted a loft at The Foundry Lofts but none were available so he bought what was – the 1400 square-foot two-level penthouse. Small, but it suited their purposes. They were rebuilding Gibbs’ house and while that was being done, the couple moved into the penthouse. The Foundry Lofts was located on 301 Tingey Street SE, a five-minute walk to the NCIS Hq.

What was convenient for Tony (he could sleep in later), was also convenient for the team. Every weekend found them congregating there after work, having BBQs on the rooftop patio and enjoying the view of the Navy Yard at night, something they didn’t even think to do when stuck at work late.

They pulled some over-nighters but what meant sleeping on the floor of the bullpen in the past, now meant a quick walk to the penthouse and to a comfortable bed or pullout sofa.

Tony gave keys to McGee, Abby and Ziva since they were dropping by several times a week, not just the weekends. The third weekend after Gibbs and Tony moved in, Gibbs had just flown in from New York where he’d attended a conference and stopped by the apartment for a shower and change of clothes before meeting Tony at work. He found a brand new dildo on his bedside table. Stark naked, as he preferred to be when home, Gibbs took it with him to the kitchen and made coffee.

Trouble was, he’d forgotten Tony had given the team keys. Abby and McGee walked in on him as he was drinking his coffee and examining the dildo.

Abby shrieked. McGee ran and hid.

Gibbs dropped the dildo and his mug of coffee, scalding his foot.

He took back all the keys.

 

*  *  *  *  *  *

 

Many nights passed with the two men having sex on the rooftop overlooking the Navy Yard before it occurred to Gibbs that someone might see them and lodge a complaint. Tony said they’d go look for a place where Gibbs could enjoy an orgasm outdoors and not worry about Peeping Toms.

“A vacation home,” Tony had clarified when Gibbs asked why the heck would they need three homes. “For the team’s use. Not just ours.”

And that was how Tony got away with it. Whenever he wanted to splurge and he knew he’d have to get past Gibbs, he’d use his ‘it’s for the team’ card.

Nine out of ten times it worked.

 

 

_**Four Months Later** _

 

Tony was just about to fix breakfast for Gibbs when his cell rang. It was Vance telling him to get his ass to his office by eight because SecNav was dropping in to see him. Tony gave Gibbs a yell, telling him they’d have to get breakfast from the coffee kiosk at Hq and why.

SecNav met with Tony and laid out his career path for him. Tony formally accepted the SecNav’s offer to be the next Deputy Director and was promoted to deputy director–in-training, with immediate effect. Tony moved upstairs to an empty room next to Vance. Gibbs brought in another special agent to fill Tony’s chair and a few days after Tony cleared out his desk, Stan Burley moved in.

Gibbs was happy for Tony and started psychologically preparing for his retirement. As deputy director and, eventually occupying the big chair, Tony wouldn’t have to stay at work late like he did as a special agent or get called out in the middle of the night unless there was a seriously major case but it would still leave Gibbs free all day, every day. He envisaged the many new projects he could start on. Like the roll-top desk Shannon wanted but Gibbs never got round to making.

Tony, however, had other ideas for Gibbs. With Vance’s and SecNav’s agreement, Tony would offer Gibbs the position of full-time consultant for MCRT and the Director’s Office, the latter being a newly-formed position when time came for Gibbs’ retirement. In effect, Gibbs would be co-Director.

SecNav wasn’t fooled but what the heck, he confided in Leon Vance later. They’d be getting two heads for the price of one (SecNav agreed on condition that it be a non-paying, non-executive position). Jarvis’ only other condition was that Gibbs was not to handle the media. That was to remain Tony’s exclusive responsibility.

Four months after they announced their engagement, in April when the cherry blossoms were in full bloom, Gibbs and Tony were married. Guests included SecNav, the entire team from work, Vance and his family plus several friends from both sides.

Gibbs invited all three of his ex-wives. Only Diane came. With Victor. Fornell was Gibbs’ best man and McGee was Tony’s.

Mike Franks had come up with Leyla and Amira and Jackson was telling everyone who was listening that he’d asked whether Gibbs was expecting him to give him away at the altar because if so, Gibbs would have to buy him a tux.

Gibbs didn’t want to have Jackson to give him away because Tony wouldn’t be able to have his father do the same. This being Tony’s first (and only!) marriage, however, Gibbs wanted it as complete as possible for him so he came up with another idea. First, they’d have two aisles instead of one and instead of a father or father-figure, they’d have women give them away.

So Jackie Vance escorted Gibbs up the aisle and Ziva David escorted Tony.

Abby didn’t stop crying.

Gibbs looked so breathtakingly handsome in his Armani tux, Tony found it hard to speak. He could only look on his husband with wonder. Gibbs couldn’t take his eyes off Tony either and as the wedding orchestra launched into the obligatory wedding number, _The Way You Look Tonight_ , Gibbs couldn’t prevent a tear from trickling down as he led Tony out for the first dance. It freaked Tony out for a minute until Gibbs explained, “I feel complete at last. Everything I could ever ask for, I have it. Thank you for understanding me. Loving me. For waiting and not giving up on me.”

 

 

*  *  *  *  *  *

 

A year later, Gibbs’ new two and a half story house was finished and the team helped the couple move in. Tony had made sure there was enough space for his baby grand. Everyone knew he could play the piano but had never heard him do so. Or own a piano. Tony explained he did own one but had put it in storage because his apartment was too small. He didn’t get rid of it because it belonged to his mother and it was she who taught him how to play.

Every alternate weekend, if they weren’t on a case, Ducky, Louise, Abby and McGee went over to Gibbs’ and Tony’s for dinner. Sometimes Ziva and Stan joined them. Lately, Fornell had been turning up, too, saying he was there not just for Tony’s cooking but for the music. Tony would play all the old songs from the movie classics, jazz-style, à la Beegie Adair and the look of happiness and contentment on Gibbs face was all he needed to make those evenings perfect.

Tony had added a pool in their enormous backyard and had the landscaping company maintain the garden because he had better things to do on Sundays than mow the lawn. And no prizes for guessing what that was.

Tony never did buy a wrought-iron bed because Gibbs made one. A mahogany four-poster with brass rings worked into each post and velvet-lined cuffs dangling from each ring.

Their Dom/sub arrangement worked so well neither noticed there was anything contrived. It was so natural for them that Gibbs knew, even if Tony hadn’t stated what the arrangement entailed, they would have fallen into their reversed roles by instinct. Gibbs even went shopping one Saturday, and came home with an assortment of new toys, to Tony’s surprise and amusement, both of which turned to mild shock and amazement as Gibbs took their love-making up another level.

Seven years later, when Gibbs’ mandatory retirement was due, he simply moved his stuff upstairs to the director’s office; to the desk right next to Tony DiNozzo, the month-old new director of NCIS.

 

 

 

 

 

  **THE END**

 

 

 

 

================

 

  

 

 

 

_…and we come to the end of the first book in the Oldies but Goodies series. Thank you all for your feedback and questions. As a result, I expanded a little on the epilogue. Gibbs' and Tony's D/s relationship isn't a regular feature. Tony only makes use of it when he knows Gibbs is stressed by a case or Vance is giving him grief. Then, Tony makes Gibbs turn over power and control to him, teaching Gibbs to let go and trust Tony for everything for that brief period Tony sets._

_Hope you all enjoyed this little indulgence of mine because I really, really, really hate those end scenes where Gibbs is always left alone in his house or that dingy basement of his!_

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
